I Am Alive
by Darker Aria
Summary: In a world where zombies eat anything they can get their hands on, how can hope exist? Everyone is a liability, and you can only trust yourself. That is, unless you find someone who can whip out a gun and shoot the living dead just as well as you can. And in a way that makes you question whether there is someone on this decaying earth that you can live with, or something more.
1. Chapter 1: On the Road Again

**Disclaimer: I do not own this show.**

It is one thing to be in a world where utter chaos emits from each section of your mind, but it is a completely other situation where utter chaos comes in the form of normalcy but is only shown when it is too late. Guns may fire to try to stop the inevitable, to postpone it, to try to do what needs to be done before it's too late. People may sacrifice their life in trying to save others from this inevitable action, when in the end, it's just stupid. When the world is falling apart, how can one feel alive when everyone else is dead? Why get closes to someone when the chances that they'll fall as well are too high?

A survivor must keep moving, keep a gun in hand, and get ready to shoot that bastard who wants to bite off your flesh to feed his own dissolving stomach.

_._._

_BANG!_

"Haha! Did you see that one? Headshot!"

Santana's seat on top of the broken down, rusted truck became empty when she jumped down from the spot, gun in hand. The heat from the day was starting to get to her so she took a breath to wipe of the perspiration and hopefully ignore the cries of-

"Lopez, that was freaking awesome! Headshot, 10 miles away, with only a pistol! That's gotta be some sort of record!"

Noah Puckerman just wouldn't shut up, would he? After being out in the deserted wasteland that used to be society for about a year killing these creatures that shouldn't have a brain in the first place, one tends to learn how to be a better marksman.

"If they still had Guinness World Records, then I'd be sure to report it, but since they don't, let's just go find some more victims." Santana Lopez wasn't in the mood for fun. This wasn't fun anymore. At first, it was a hell of a ride being able to kill those people you hate and not have a burden on your conscious because you ended their torture. But after the first few days, the reality of what she was doing caught up to her. These used to be people, but the key word here is 'used'. Now they are considered as the species that ruined Santana's life.

"I want to kill every last one of these damn zombies," she said with a gruff to no one in particular.

"How could you not find this exciting, Santana?" Puckerman asked without hearing her own comment. "We're practically Gods out here. We own this place."

"There is no God, Puck! If there was a damn God we wouldn't be in this situation in the first place!"

Santana loses her head every once in a while, but this was the first time noted by Puckerman that she has ever outright screamed. Puck just shook his head and walked back to the Hummer that held their supplies for the day. As he was walking, Santana spotted another demon in her vision and quickly took the head off of that one as well.

"I think she's just lonely."

Puck lifted his head to look at where the voice came from. A girl with blonde hair and hazel eyes sitting right on top of the Hummer stared back. Her face was serious but her eyes held concern.

"How can she be lonely if we're here?" Puck asked without a clue.

Quinn continued to sit on top of the car while staring at the angry girl aiming to shoot off yet another zombie's body part.

"Noah, have you ever had to spend a large amount of time with a person or two?" Quinn asked, her eyes looking back at Puck with a certain glint in them.

"You mean besides this?"

Quinn nodded.

"I guess so, yeah. Back before Day 0, I was forced to help out this new kid at school. He was from this place from uh," Puck scratched his Mohawked head in thought. "Europe I think. Yeah, he was real annoying and I had to practically carry him on my back for about two weeks. He didn't shut up about his home country or the stuff in America that excited him."

Just thinking about the boy made Puck gain a headache. Quinn continued to stare at the supposed badass. His Mohawk and biker's jacket (even in the freaking heat) made him seem like someone who wouldn't blink before ripping a zombie's head off. But underneath that exterior was a simpleminded boy who still wouldn't have graduated High School at this time and age, and probably wouldn't have because of his grades.

"Okay…" Quinn took another glimpse at Santana. "Well, use that but in Santana's shoes. She's pretty much been stuck with you ever since Day 0, and you do almost the same thing as that exchange student."

"What? No I don't. My home country _is_ America."

Quinn shook her head in annoyance. Puck was some kid. Almost 18 years old and still acting 10.

"Puckerman…"

Puck picked his head up when the thought finally connected in his mind. "What about you? You've been stuck with her since Day 0. Is she tired of you, too?"

Quinn perked up at his sudden intelligence and looked him straight in the eye. Santana would never admit it, but Quinn did know why Santana was in this stage of hostility. Santana didn't even have to say it. She's been stuck with the small pack for a while and some of the kids that both girls had to endure could get a little aggravating at times, and Santana would never be tired of Quinn because she was Santana's only gal pal. But she needed more than a best friend.

"I just think that Santana needs something special..."

_._._

When the sun finally touched the horizon, Santana called it quits. She knew that she shot a lot of heads today, but it just didn't seem like it was anywhere near enough. No matter how many days she practices her skills, there will still be millions more out there for her to defeat. It will never stop until the day the last one flops onto the ground and stops breathing. But who knows, that may never happen in her lifetime.

Santana approached the Hummer that Quinn and Puck were stationed at. They had still been talking about something when they heard the sound of Santana's boots scuff the floor. Quickly, both turned towards her and shut their mouths.

"What?" Santana questioned with a bored expression. "Were you two talking about me or something?"

The brunette didn't even wait for an answer before she went to the trunk of the Hummer to pick out an AK-47 and sling it across her arm. There were numerous weapons in the dirty vehicle as well as clips. If they were ambushed by the zombies, they'd be good to go.

"Well?"

Puck and Quinn still hadn't answered Santana's question. Quinn was staring at the girl skeptically and Puck was just staring. He had to say that the wardrobe Santana was wearing would leave a mark on anyone. It was something someone would see out of a Resident Evil movie except Santana had a purpose for her clothing. She said that the cargo pants and boots were because of the terrain and the cold at night while the tank top was because of the heat. But whatever, she looked good and if Santana wasn't so shy of being touched, he would've been all over her.

Puck then looked over at Quinn who was the complete opposite of Santana. Ever since the Puckasaurus found the pack, the blonde had been all over _him_. Or at least he thought so.

"Finn radio'd in earlier. He said he may have a lead on some supplies," Quinn answered Santana's question.

The brunette didn't even turn towards Quinn when she spoke back, "What kind of supplies are we talking about?" It didn't even seem like the brunette realized that the couple had been talking about her. Or maybe she did realize but she refused to acknowledge. Quinn knew that it would be exactly what Santana would do. A few months ago, it just seemed like Santana was checking out of the world and it's been growing worse. The blonde had been fearing that Santana would just stop caring in general, about everything.

"Finn said food and water."

Santana was just about to hop into the passenger's seat when the magical words entered her ears.

"Water?"

Finally, Santana seemed to realize that she had fellow teammates and turned her head to look at them. Quinn smiled at her humanity and nodded. She nudged Puck to sit in the backseat of the Hummer and the blonde herself took the driver's chair.

"Yup. Real, clean running water. And only a day's time away from here."

Santana could only feel yearning when the thought passed through her mind. Actual water, a lot of it, enough to take hopefully a shower in. Water wasn't scarce for their small caravan. They had the supplies to purify any water that they came across. The problem was that it was always a small amount that they would be able to purify, so the thought of enough water to get the grime off of Santana's skin and hair…it sounded like heaven.

"Damn…if Finn really pulled this one off, I may actually consider holding my hostility towards him for a week," Santana sighed and closed her eyes while imaging the effect that water would have on her arms and legs and hair. She only had the memory of it because it had been at least a month that they had actually showered. They have used ponds and beaches but those are never satisfying. The ocean leaves salt on your skin and ponds have mud. In a world where first world normalcy is quickly eroding, one tends to miss something so common.

"A week? That would probably be the longest vacation you've ever given him," Quinn chuckled to herself. The blonde started up the Hummer and pulled out of the area back towards camp. One look in the rearview mirror told the girl that Puck had fallen asleep quickly. Santana seemed to also notice the beast snoring in the backseat.

It was at these very rare moments that Santana unconsciously relaxed, but in the way Santana only can. The girl would never fully relax, and it was proven when, while Quinn was driving, Santana would aim her AK-47 and shoot the brains out of the undead that were yards away from the car that was speeding at 70 mph.  
Santana took another aim at a particularly fat zombie and easily took off his head, which then rolled over to the side where another zombie accidentally tripped over it.

The action caused the brunette to laugh mockingly. "You know these zambs are American because they're so freaking fat. It makes them easier targets."

Although the comment was on the mean side, Quinn forced herself to smile.

"Rule number one, right?"

Santana scoffed and nodded, "Definitely. Cardio is necessary, even for zambies."

Before Day 0, there had been so many zombie movies. Quinn and Santana had to agree that Zombieland was one of the best, even if it did make fun of the scariness of zombies. Santana would think to herself now that being a zombie killer was easy, but she has witnessed events that had scarred her even worse than it should've. But the brunette did not want to think about that. All she wanted to be focused on was the next zombie that came right into her vision.

Quinn couldn't help but stare at the girl beside her, killing off zombies like it was duck hunt. The blonde knew that Santana was lonely and lacked the love that was taken away from her. How couldn't anyone love the girl? Even from a distance, without hearing the thoughts that her brain makes up, people would fall to their knees to give Santana what she would want. She had long, flowing dark hair that whipped perfectly in the wind. Her sun kissed skin seemed flawless even with a month of no showering. Her deep, dark eyes held so much mystery as they looked around, trying to find another victim.

"Quinn?" Santana's raspy voice called out to the blonde, those deep eyes connecting to hazel.

"Yeah?"

"Pothole."

And seconds later, the car fell forward into said pothole. The action caused Quinn to lurch forward and hit her chest on the steering wheel. Santana had grabbed necessary handhelds before the car stopped. As for Puck…

"Holy fuck!"

He was terribly woken up when his head hit the seat in front of him, hard. The impact caused him to become dizzy and filled with rage.

"Nice driving, Fabray. Next time, hit zombies, not holes in the ground." Puck reached his hand up to feel his injury and noticed that his forehead was coated with a sticky substance. A closer look showed that it was blood.

"Oh great. I'm bleeding. I hope you're happy," Puck growled while kicking out the door to exit the useless vehicle.

Quinn had trouble getting herself out because she was still confused about all that happened. How could she not have been paying attention for that long? Quinn put her blame to Santana and looked towards her to find that she expertly maneuvered her way out of the her seat and went over to Puck.

"You may be bleeding but my boobs got full impact from the steering wheel. You have no idea what it's like to hit your boobs, hard." Quinn tried to recover from her mistake and rubbed her throbbing body parts, but no one was buying her pity act. Santana just shook her head and rolled her eyes while Puck was still aggravated.

"Stay still, Puck. I need to bandage it," Santana commanded to the boy. The brunette opened a small box that was clipped to her belt and took out some gauze.

Puck attempted to ignore Santana babying him and continued to try to tease Quinn. "Babe, that doesn't need a med kit because I can make those boobs feel better so easily. It isn't the only thing that can be hit by something hard." The player winked.

"Can we not talk about inappropriate shit while I'm trying to keep whatever is left in your stupid head from spilling out of this wound?" Santana had been wrapping the gauze around Puck's head like a professional, and right at the word 'wound', the girl made sure to pull the bandage extra tight before tying it.

Puck winced but still tried to maintain his cockiness, emphasis on the cock.

"Maybe later before night's out, you and me can make each other feel better from this."

Santana only groaned.

Quinn gave the boy a wary look and turned around, pretending to survey the damage.

"I don't know, Puck…"

"Oh, come on. I know you want some Puck love."

Quinn stood still and didn't say a word. Santana was watching the whole thing while thinking that it was all bull. It was completely stupid to be having any conversation like this in the middle of who knows where.

Puck couldn't stand it anymore and got to his feet quickly, which caused Santana to almost fall backwards and for her to yell out "Hey!" with no recognition. "You've been such a turn off for a while now, Quinn. Before, you used to be all over me like every night!"

The boy trudged up to Quinn and put a rough hand on her shoulder. Quinn tensed and tried to break free, but Puck wouldn't have it. He twisted the girl to face her and made her stare straight at him. His grip was strong and his hand dug deep into her skin. Quinn thought that he was going to harm her even more before-

_BANG!_

The two didn't twist their heads to look at where the shot came from, but to where it hit because they were both splattered by the target. Not three feet from the couple was a woman who's skin was practically melting off of her face. Her eyes were a misty grey, bloodshot and stared into nothingness. Bits of her flesh were bitten or scratched off, perhaps by her, and her mouth was ready to bite down onto Quinn's naked shoulder. That is, before it had a gaping hole in the back of her throat.

The body fell to the ground.

"May I remind you."

Santana's voice broke the surprise from the two and they saw that she had her AK-47 aimed and her eyes squinting, ready to shoot again if she must.

"…that we are in a fucking zombie apocalypse. Our car is in a trench and your horny actions are getting us unnecessary attention. Now, unless you want me to shoot you, get your ass into gear and help me drive this thing up the hole!"

It seemed like Santana didn't even care anymore because she hitched her gun back into place and made her way to the driver's seat to try to reverse the Hummer onto normal terrain.

Quinn looked at Puck and bit her lip.

"Later, Noah," she said quietly to him, though she did not want to. Puck knew exactly what that meant and did a complete 180 on his emotions. With a smile, he walked over to the front of the Hummer and got into a pushing position.

"Come on, Fabray! This thing isn't going to reverse itself!" Santana yelled.

_._._

"It's about time you guys got here. I wasn't sure what I was going to do if I was stranded on this planet all by myself."

"You probably would've gotten eaten or something. No big deal."

Finn Hudson narrowed his gaze at Santana's comment as he watched the three exhausted looking kids exit the very dirty Hummer. The sky had already produced plenty of stars, and if Finn had to guess, he would've thought that it was about 12 a.m.

"I thought that you were dead out there. Nobody was answering to my radio calls." The awkwardly tall and gangly boy had gone over to pull out some supplies that the squad was supposed to have gotten for the day. That was the whole point in the trip. It should've taken about five hours tops for the whole thing, but he knew that Santana wanted some target practice. Still, that in itself should've only wasted maybe three more hours. They had been gone 14 hours.

"I turned it off," Santana shrugged and sat down on a crate in their makeshift camp. "Your voice was annoying me."

Finn groaned and set down the boxes before picking up some more branches to feed the fire. He looked around at the three other members of the group and noticed that Puck had bandages on his head. When he and Puck made eye contact, Puck just narrowed his eyes, which made Finn leave that thought alone. "I thought you had the walkie talkie, Quinn."

"I uh, gave it to Santana…" The blonde frowned at her poor judgment and sat down next to the trouble making brunette. The girl didn't even give acknowledgement to that action as she was kicking off her boot to see what it was that had been pinching her foot all day.

Finn sighed and plopped to the ground, no longer wanting to deal with the storm that was Santana. He sat at the opposite side of the fire to the girl and started to play with the burnt wood. Puck didn't even hear the whole thing and, with a loopy grin on his face that everyone didn't doubt the meaning behind, crisscrossed next to Quinn while taking her hand.

Santana wasn't sure why she had even stuck it out this long with these people. Sure, there really wasn't that many to choose from left and the majority of them would've probably been disposable assets with no real assistance. But to tell the truth, these people seemed to be bringing her down. Just being in the company of those that can easily turn was starting to bug the girl. Maybe it was best if she just went her own way…

"So," Santana barked when things were became too quiet. "I heard that you found a trustworthy water source? Care to share with the class about how you found this information?"

Santana's voice seemed to snap everyone back into attention. It wasn't until then that she had realized that they were all thinking about something. Probably their own secret problems.

Finn gulped at his sudden spotlight and ceased his toying with the embers. With shaky hands, he reached over to his backpack and brought out a small laptop. The team was smart enough to configure a solar battery into the machine so that plugging it in wasn't a problem. Of course, it wasn't Puck or Finn that came up with the idea, or the technology itself. Quinn was the mastermind behind it.

What was also a blessing (and a mystery), was how there still seemed to be a wireless internet connection in certain places. That had to mean that people were still about, but this didn't prompt Santana to want to go find them.

"Well, since you people were gone for way more than you should've been," Finn started as his fingers glided over the keyboard with exact precision. Santana only glared at his choice of words. "I had done some fooling around on here to try to maybe find something actually of use to us."

"He means porn," Puck commented without hesitation. That caused a giggle from Quinn and an amused smirk from the brunette.

"No, I do not mean porn." Finn shook his head. "I actually looked at our general area and saw that we were not far from a small town."

"A small town in Kansas? What are the odds?" Puck interrupted again with his sarcasm.

"If you want to take a nice shower for once, then let me finish, Noah! God knows that you especially need one. I seriously can smell your pits all the way over here, bro."

"That is true, Puckerman. Your reeking is ruining my nostrils." Santana plugged her nose and scrunched up her face, which in turn made Puck look at her and Finn angrily.

"Just continue, man. Sooner we get this done, the sooner I can finally do what I want."

And by do, they all knew it was Quinn.

"_What_ever. So I found out that the part of Kansas that I'm talking about was hit by the infection early so that town was one of the first to be evacuated, which also declares it one of the most dangerous to be at."

Puck scratched his head as he pondered, "Why would we want to go to some place that's more dangerous than others?"

"Because it means that no one would dare to touch the place, thus having food and water." Santana rolled her eyes. "When you recently shaved your head, did you also shave off parts of your brain, too?"

The mohawked boy scowled but it didn't do any good on the brunette. Nothing affected her anymore.

"Come on, Santana. Let Finn tell us where we're going and what we're doing since I know that you don't have any plan. You never do," Quinn frowned again at Santana's attitude while she was trying to soothe the girl. Quinn didn't like this part of the brunette anymore. She used to be so free and yes, confident, but not so much as she would see everyone else as inferior. She used to be someone that Quinn could look up to and admire…

Santana huffed and crossed her arms before staring with boredom at the giant who was sitting there as if he had no clue what he was doing.

Finn coughed awkwardly and looked down at the computer so that he didn't have to stare into Santana's cold eyes.

"I found that this place has a supermarket, like, one of those stores that has food, clothing, bedding and all of that. I wasn't sure why they dropped one in such a small town, but maybe that was the community's only place to get those supplies. It's a day's trip from here so if we get started moving at dawn, we should be there about noon tomorrow; if we take turns driving, that is."

Santana calculated in her head that dawn was only in a few hours and there would be barely any time to sleep in between. Just the thought made her groan with annoyance. But the place supposedly had water, and she figured that was a good enough reason to be deprived of sleep.

"How are our gas tanks?" Quinn asked with complete seriousness. Santana tilted her head and looked at the girl wondering if the blonde even figured out that no one would be getting much rest. Quinn loved to sleep just as much as Santana and she wasn't sure why Quinn preferred their gas amount over the luxury of dreams.

'Uhm, I'm not sure how much you wasted today…" Finn peered over at the Hummer and finally captured just how dirty and seemingly damaged it was. He turned to Quinn with a questionable look on his face and Quinn returned the accusation with an expression saying, 'don't ask'. "But we still have five full gallons in the truck just in case we do need to refill."

"Maybe we should leave tonight."

Everyone stopped what they were doing to look at Quinn. It was such a weird suggestion to make, and everyone knew it, even the blonde herself. Quinn was normally the one that told the group that they should wait until morning; that the road was dangerous at night.

"W-what?" Santana stuttered because she was completely caught off guard. Quinn tried to maintain a calm face, but Santana noticed that her eyes met everywhere except at Puck.

"I mean, why wait? I'm still awake and can drive a few hours while Santana sleeps. And Puck was definitely hyper just a few moments ago. So, why not?"

The blonde still refused to look in Puck's direction even when mentioning his name. Her body slightly showed tenseness. It was watching Quinn squirm as Puck unconsciously placed a hand on the blonde's thigh that made Santana make a decision that she knew would also be out of the norm.

"Ok, Q. You give me the last energy drink and I'll start packing up so we can leave here in about an hour. But you definitely have the first driving shift, and if you drive into another pothole, I'm not helping you get it out."

With that, Santana turned her back and went over to the small cooler that they kept around to pick up and open the remaining can of Monster. Finn looked at Quinn questioningly and the girl knew it was about Santana's comment about the pothole. The blonde shrugged and awkwardly smiled before inwardly breathing a sigh of relief. Quinn was glad that Santana had agreed with her, and if Santana agreed, that meant that everyone else had to as well.

Puck was just starting to soak up the conversation, and right when Quinn stood up to help Santana move their packs into the Hummer, he made his comment.

"Why the hell are we doing this? Quinn, we were supposed to be together tonight. You promised!"

Santana looked over her shoulder to find that Quinn had tensed again, and right before the blonde said anything, Santana commented, "If you were logically thinking, bonehead, then you would realize that Finn had been camping here all day. The zombies haven't entirely lost their sense of smell. In fact, they may have an advancement to it after all this time. Surely they would recognize live flesh and a fire. We need to move away before their slow, decomposing asses reach us."

"And I didn't promise you anything, Noah. I said maybe," Quinn added.

"Oh, come on! Do you know how long it has been since the last time I got off? This is entirely bullcrap! You promised me!" The boy threw his hands up in anger which startled the other three. Santana just about had it when she threw down the box of cans and trudged up to the boy with anger issues.

The brunette pointed one strict finger at Puck and spoke, "Just because she is a girl does not mean that you are inclined to do _anything_ with her. She is the one protecting your ass, Puckerman. If we decided, we would drop you off at the nearest mall to be ripped to shreds by those zombies! Do you want them to get a piece of you? Because right now, I really want them to."

"You know what, Lopez? Fuck this, and fuck you. Maybe you would be a little more intuitive about my situation if you were a normal person. But no. You have 'issues'," Puck used air quotes while staring right into Santana's eyes. Neither of them budged for a second. "Maybe you do need someone to fuck you, but hey, I don't even think there is anyone out there that would do it, because you are just an angry, hateful bitch that no one wants to be around! The only reason that you're here is because you have good aim and save us a couple of bullets."

Puck practically spit his words into the Latina's face. At first, Santana didn't even move at the boy's words, but as it started to sink in, her expression grew from pissed off to morose. Her hands were clenched together as if to punch the idiot in the face, but she just took one second to stare right into the equally cold eyes of Puck before spinning around and picking up the box she had thrown aside.

The mohawked boy growled and kicked the nearest object before giving up on his plot and going to the opposite side of the camp to continue packing.

That left Quinn and Finn standing right in the middle of the mess having no idea what to do as the flickering of the fire left eerie shadows on their faces.

"I'll take Santana," Quinn said just as Finn spoke, "I'll deal with Puck."

If it wasn't for the situation, they both would have laughed at their timing, but sadly, the two walked in separate directions to deal with the hotheads.

"Hey, San…thanks for saving me from Puck," Quinn said quietly as she bent down to pick up the last box that Santana was going to get. The brunette paused at Quinn's actions and just shrugged.

"It's no big deal. That guy needs to realize that you're not an object."

Quinn forced a chuckle but knew that Santana saw through it. The blonde heaved the box into the back of the Hummer and sat on the edge. Santana stood a few feet in front of her. The Latina was waiting for the girl to speak.

"You're more than just a sharp-shooter, S. I'd go nuts if you weren't in this group." Quinn sighed and looked at her feet.

"This is more than just Puck being a horndog, isn't it?"

Quinn was quiet for a few moments while carefully picking out her words.

"We all have our secrets. I know that you do, and you know that I do as well. I'm starting to get tired of keeping up this charade."

Although Santana didn't know what charade she was keeping up exactly, though she knew it had to do with Puck, she knew that she was also getting tired of being a certain person. You had to keep a good vibe when you're stuck with the same people because if one thing is unbalanced, you may end up on the side of the road as zombie feed.

"…but we can't make it without them," Quinn finished. The blonde picked up her head to try to tell what Santana was feeling, but like normal, Santana held her mask in place.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Q, but we did just fine before they came along." Santana folded her arms in front of her and looked away from the hazel eyes that seemed like they were staring right into her core. The attention felt so uncomfortable and she didn't need this, but she knew that Quinn wouldn't give up until Santana was moderately all right.

"Yeah, we did plenty fine while you were banging heads with a rusty shovel and I tried to get onto upper ground. They had the firearms, San. You know we wouldn't be here right now if they never came along."

The Latina knew that Quinn had a point, but she'd hate to admit it.

"When was the last time we found other survivors?"

The question caused Santana to freeze. It was such an out-there idea to think of. The pack only thought about the pack; no one else mattered.

"Uh…three months?" It was entirely a guess to Santana who didn't even look for zombies. If they were even in a group of them, she probably shot off their heads just the same as any other undead.

"I remember exactly when," Quinn sighed. "It was last May and we were stopped at a gas station to pick up fuel. You said you would handle it, so Finn and I went searching around for other supplies. It was then that we found them, in an alleyway not far off from the gas station. There were two people who barely were over the age of 15."

Quinn looked to see if Santana was actually listening to her tale and she was surprised to find that the girl was staring straight at her, unusually interested in the story. Santana nudged her chin to tell Quinn to keep going.

Quinn couldn't continue while being pegged by the dark eyes so she looked away as the words flew from her mouth, "They looked starved…and were barely clothed. Like, the material just hung on their limbs and were so dirty and ripped that it could barely pass as suitable clothing. They hadn't noticed us, and I wanted to call you over because it had been a while since we found anyone else. I figured that all they needed was some food and they'd be good to go. But when I called for you and said that we found survivors, you just said to leave them because they'd be dead by now if they weren't able to handle themselves."

Santana noticed the sudden change in Quinn's facial features. At first she was showing signs of her just conjuring up a memory, but then she became sad. The brunette knew this story wouldn't have a happy ending, and although the idea of caring that this story would be woeful was lost on Santana, she couldn't speak out to stop Quinn from continuing.

"I was so excited to finally have found other people, people that we could've shared stories with and have them tag along and help balance our ever raging emotions. But it was while I was trying to convince you to let us approach them when it happened."

Quinn took a few moments and Santana would've called it out as suspense, but the way the blonde curled her body into a ball made Santana instead want to hug her, which she never would, even if the blonde was bawling. The hugging days had long passed.

"It wasn't like there weren't any zombies anywhere. They were located in other places that had only been a few miles from us, but we had to have taken a bit of time just standing there, because the two kids, two teenage girls, made one innocent noise…"

"What noise?" Santana asked after a few seconds of Quinn letting the moment hang. It was a stupid question to other people, but Santana knew that sound was a great friend to the living dead. They could have their eyes gouged out and their nose ripped off from where it should hang, but for some reason, their hearing was better than it should've been.

"One of the girls dropped an empty soup can. It was like a gunshot to those flesh eaters. They just appeared out of nowhere, a clan of them, and jumped the two girls. I guessed that you could have heard their screams, but when you reported back to me to ask where we were, it was obvious that you didn't."

"And you didn't tell me what happened?" Santana questioned, suddenly feeling a need to sit down and think through this story. The Latina knew that her facial expressions were changing from carelessness to…caring? It was wrong to even think that way. In this world of having to survive one day at a time, emotions couldn't even get in the way, yet they were.

"I assumed that you wouldn't care." The words felt bitter on the blonde's tongue but she knew they were true. Santana never took any time to think of others. She was only focused on her survival.

It was as if Quinn read Santana's thoughts.

A moment of silence was brought on them as they both thought about how their conversation took a turn.

Santana broke the silence by asking, "Why did you tell me this?"

"The two girls…they reminded me of us. One was a blonde pale girl, and the other Hispanic. Whether that was coincidence or not, it left me with nightmares for a long time."

"You said this was last May?"

Quinn nodded.

Santana thought to herself for a moment, a finger on her chin and her eyes looking anywhere but at Quinn. She finally connected the information that she needed and responded, "That was like, four months ago. You've been having nightmares about that all this time?"

It was rare that Santana ever actually showed any care. Quinn was secretly glad that she had that emotion, and it was directed towards her, but this was a topic that was still very sensitive.

"Yeah," the blonde admitted. "San…we were those girls once, except we got lucky."

"We could have made it," the brunette scoffed.

"You really think so? We're barely making it now as it is…"

Santana was aware that the blonde meant emotionally. People do tend to go insane in a world such as this one. And what Quinn mentioned before about secrets… secrets and lies drove people apart. Were they bound to go insane?

"I wonder how the hell Finn deals with it… I suppose, thinking about it now, you've been a wreck for a while, you know?" Santana tilted her head as she thought about it. They didn't seem all that different from four months ago, but now that she was contemplating, it was around the time that Quinn stopped being all into sex with Puck. Just thinking about that whole problem reminded Santana about their recent argument. He did hit a nerve. There may be a massive cut in the population of actual human beings, but did that mean that there really was no one who was fit for her? Who would actually love her? Who she would learn to trust…?

She really was meant to be forever alone, was she?

"It's the reason why Finn keeps persisting that he stay to watch the camp. You probably didn't notice because you're just eager to get out there and kill."

Quinn broke Santana from her thoughts and the two looked at each other.

"I have my reasons…" was all the Latina said.

"We have our secrets," Quinn repeated.

"Hey, ladies! We finally finished packing all of your crap. Let's get a fucking move on, shall we?"

Puck was as bitter as ever but it no longer fazed Santana as he interrupted the two girls' moment. She had to come to terms that there was probably no one out there that she could feel comfortable around. Not even with Quinn was she loose and relaxed. At times, Quinn seemed like she was just sitting a little too close. But Quinn was all the Latina had for someone to lean on, even in the rare times Santana allowed herself to do so.

Quinn jumped from the trunk of the Hummer and Santana went over to slam it shut. The noise didn't startle Santana, but Finn looked at her like she was crazy.

"What? We're getting out of here, anyways." Santana rolled her eyes as if it was obvious.

Finn shook his head and dejectedly got into the passenger side of the truck. The truck was actually just a small furniture moving truck, but it held everything that needed to be transported. Puck had been waiting impatiently and as soon as Finn shut the door, the engine to the truck roared.

Santana wasn't worried that Puck would drive without them but she didn't exactly take her sweet time jumping into the Hummer. Quinn was already seated and immediately revved up the car to followed Puck out into the open terrain.

The sun was just starting to make its entrance when Santana closed her eyes and drifted to sleep.

**A/N**

**I'm going to make this as short as possible.****  
**

**1. Happy new story. I'm totally changing things up, being more mature, new ideas and new concepts. Updates won't take forever but they won't be all that quick.**

**2. I'm going to be writing each chapter with a lot of words, more than this. This is shorter so people can ease into it.**

**3. I have no Beta. I may probably need one, but I've never had one before. I'm good at finding mistakes in other's writings, just not mine.**

**4. Expect few A/N's. I want this to have an actual story type feel to it.**

**5. I've never done third person before so this chapter will include a bit of mixing around with the omnipotent knowledge. It will end up just being from Santana's POV, third person, and may change off to Brittany or another person will not be as jumpy as this chapter. **

**6. Anymore questions, PM or Review and I'll get back to you, I promise. **

**7. Rated M because of cursing, attempt at sexy times, and brutalness with zombie descriptions and the such. **


	2. Chapter 2: Sweet Dreams Not Made of This

_ A sickly green color seemed to suffocate all existence. It was as if all other colors on the spectrum didn't exist except for a disgusting shade of green. _

_ Santana was in the green room without any idea of how she had gotten there. The color was blurring her vision because it was all that she could see. Only green. Like rotten flesh that had lived in the ground for years and just decided to sprout up like a weed. It smelled like rotten flesh as well. Santana never knew what that even smelled like, but for some reason she was able to pinpoint it in her head._

_ "Santana!" _

_ It was the voice of her mother. Old, weary, yet with a distinct Spanish accent, Santana would know that voice anywhere. _

_ But the voice was behind her, and for some reason, Santana knew that she was running from it. She knew that her mother was not a friend to her._

_ "Santana!"_

_ This time the voice was in front of her and held a male dialect. Her father. _

_ Santana was able to put together that she was running to her father, from her mother, but she didn't know why. All she knew was that she had to hurry. All she knew was that there was a sense of dread filling her as she continued to stand in the green room with the melting flesh scent drifting through her blood stream. She knew that something bad was happening, and if she didn't make it in time to her father, something worse would happen._

_ "Santana!"_

_ "Santana!"_

_ The voices were shouting her name without any stop. Her mother's voice and her father's voice blended together as they chanted for her to come to one of them. _

_ Santana's arms wouldn't move to cover her ears. She just wanted that feeling of dread to cease. But she knew that her body wanted to move to her father, and so it did. _

_ The girl slowly walked down the green room and every step she took, the wall she was headed towards grew further and further away. She figured that the more distance she made, the lower her mother's anxious voice would shout, but it was the opposite. It seemed as if her mother's voice only got louder, as if she was running towards Santana._

_ Santana started to pick up speed at this realization. The louder her mother's voice got, the worse her dread felt. At some point, the brunette started running towards the wall that seemed to have her father behind. Her feet felt like lead and her body was growing tired from running, but Santana knew that she couldn't stop, for if she stopped, the dread would consume her. _

_ The yelling and the green room and the rotting scent was all starting to get to her. Her head felt dizzy but her legs kept running, even though she was about to faint at any moment._

_ It was one final shout from her mother that caused Santana to trip onto the ground. Once on the ground, Santana found that she couldn't get back up again. Her body was magnetized to the floor and even though she pushed with all that she had, Santana was unable to do anything but lie there, staring in the direction where her father, and supposed freedom, was. _

_ "Santana…"_

_ The girl's ears perked at the closeness of her mother's voice. It was inches from her ear, yet Santana couldn't turn her body to see it. Fear started to envelope her body and combined with the dread, the dread that she realized was coming from her mother._

_ "Don't run, mija…Mama is here…"_

_ Santana slowly forced her neck to turn and noticed that the rotting smell was as strong as it could possibly be. As soon as she targeted where it was coming from, she found out too late that she should never had looked._

_ A decomposing hand gripped tightly on Santana's shoulder, and dug its nails deep into her skin._

Santana gasped awake and fell forward in her seat. She would've hit her head on the dashboard had it not been for her seatbelt.

"Whoa!" Quinn had been driving peacefully on the barren highway when the sleeping form of the Latina burst awake out of nowhere. "Are you alright there?"

The brunette was slowly trying to get her bearings after the shock of the dream and the seatbelt keeping her from falling. Her head twisted around a bit as it took in her surroundings and once she realized that she was no longer in a green room, she took a deep breath and let her body relax into the seat.

"I'm just peachy," Santana replied, not really wanting to get into the whole dream thing. It wasn't the first time she had a dream like that; in fact, she couldn't even count how many times she had to experience the nightmare that slept in her unconsciousness. It was something that Santana didn't want to share out loud because it was her own problem, not anyone else's.

"You sure?" Quinn prodded. Quinn was aware that Santana sometimes slept horribly, and other times she slept like the dead themselves (though she was pretty sure that the undead didn't sleep at all). Santana never complained about any nightmares, but just like the rest of them, she did have something in her dreams that startled her most nights. She was just the only one to never admit it.

"I'd be crying if I wasn't. What time is it?" The Latina looked away from the questioning eyes of Quinn and tried to figure out from the sky about when it was in the day. The sun was high up in the air but it seemed to be a few inches down than it would if it were midday.

Quinn looked at the dashboard on the Hummer and reported the time, "It's about 1 o'clock. You've been out for a while…"

"Monster is a piece of shit," Santana muttered, realizing that they were headed East because the sun was falling in the opposite direction.

"It's probably going to make you shit later," Quinn laughed.

"Ew, disgusting, Q. Didn't need to tell me that." Santana scrunched up her nose and shook her head. Sometimes things were really awkward, but no one should result to saying nasty jokes, even if they were going to be true.

"Sorry, sorry." Quinn refocused on the road with a slight smile. "I would've woken you up at our last pit stop, but you were out cold. I figured that I owed you for helping to convince the guys that we shouldn't have waited to leave."

Santana yawned and stretched her arms. She looked at Quinn from the corner of her eye and said mid-yawn, "Yeah, whatever. I just really wanted to get a nice shower as soon as I could. Speaking of showers, you don't happen to have any perfume on you, do ya?"

"It's in the glove compartment, remember? I always keep a bottle there. You know how much Puck doesn't like to use soap. 'Water is enough to clean'. I think he believes that soap is a sin."

Santana quickly opened the glove box in front of her and searched quickly for the bottle. Her hands grabbed a glass object in the mess and she yanked it out.

"Knowing him, it probably is." The brunette proceeded to spray the bottle onto her palm and took a huge whiff of it. The scent of cherries filled her senses and she sighed happily. It was the disgusting flesh that had been stuck in her mind, and Santana wanted it gone. She wanted all traces of that nightmare to be erased from her thoughts, even though that was impossible. She would just have the nightmare all over again.

Quinn chuckled at Santana's comment but didn't reply. The blonde was aware that Santana enjoyed moments where there was a comfortable silence in the world that was anything but. For some reason, Quinn wanted Santana to be happy and smile a lot. The girl's beautiful when she smiles.

"Aren't you tired?" Santana asked which brought Quinn out of her thoughts.

"I suppose, but I can keep going until the next rest st-"

"Hey, dicks for brains." Santana had grabbed the walkie talkie from the drink console and spoke into it.

"_Looks like Ms. Snoresalot is up," _Puck's voice answered.

"I do not snore!" Santana shot back, her voice raising a little. Quinn tried to keep a straight face. Only when Santana is in a really deep sleep does she snore, but it's so light that it's barely noticeable. It's practically cute.

"_Hell yeah you do. I've heard you a few times. It's like a lawn mower and a chainsaw had a baby and it was you._"

"Shut the fuck up. You snore loud enough to wake a Snorlax."

"_Pokemon reference? I'm guessing you must really be bored when you start being nerdy. Whatever. What'd you want?"_

Santana rolled her eyes. They had a working Nintendo DS somewhere in one of the cars so it really wasn't that off that she even made such a comment. They needed entertainment somehow.

"Quinn's getting tired. Let's make a quick break for lunch and I'll switch with her. Is Finn up to at least doing that?"

_ "Has the Monster gotten to you yet that you need a potty break? I told you that crap was useless and only helped remove your bowels."_

"Did not! You were the one that recommended it and said that it freaking made you hyper." Santana angrily stared at the device as if it was the machine that was annoying her.

_ "No way. That was definitely Red Bull. You need to know your drinks, Lopez."_

"Fucking tell Finn to pull over."

_ "You hear that Finny? Stop at the next restroom. Santana's gotta go pee-pee."_

"Puckerman! I will kick your bony ass as soon as we stop, I promise you that!"

_ "It's a sexy ass at that."_

Santana could just imagine the boy winking at her and shoving his butt into her face. She scowled at the radio and turned it off, no longer wanting to hear the banter from the idiot. It didn't even matter that they had an argument a few hours earlier. It wasn't even out of place how quickly grudges went away in the group. Unless it was seriously bad, such as stealing a precious candy bar, anger faded quickly.

Regardless of that fact, the brunette shook her head and stared at the ground, "It's no wonder you don't wanna have sex with that guy. He's a moron."

"As most guys are," Quinn replied with a solemn look.

_._._

A couple of minutes later, the truck that Quinn had been following took an exit off of the highway and ended up parking in front of a seemingly abandoned gas station.

"It's the gas stations that you have to worry about," Santana muttered, taking a pistol from the glove box and checking its bullets. Quinn pulled up next to the truck and turned off the car. As soon as she got her seatbelt off, Santana tossed the innocent gun in her lap.

"Thanks," Quinn said and got out of the Hummer.

The two met up with Finn and Puck who were opening up the storage part of the truck to get the box that had canned items.

"Hey," Finn greeted the two girls, mostly Quinn, with a smile. "How's about some potato soup for a nice meal today?"

"Didn't we have that two days ago? And the day before that? And a couple of days before that?" Santana questioned without real curiosity.

"It's not like we own a grocery market, Santana. Deal with the food we have and be thankful that we even have any." Finn wasn't really up for Santana's bullshit today. He was hoping that with the discovery of the supermarket, he would also find something that may change how things have been. He wasn't sure exactly what it was, but it seemed like that supermarket had a special property that was pulling the group towards it.

"Yeah, San. How about you go take that big gun of yours and check out the place. I bet you may find your well needed bathroom as well," Puck chimed in with a cocky smile on his face as he tried to figure out how to use the can opener. It was always Finn's job to open it, and every time Puck was forced to do it himself, he became stuck and grudgingly asked for help.

As much as Santana didn't want to admit it, she really did need to use the bathroom. But she knew that she wasn't the only one with a problem.

"Okay, fine. I'll go scope out the place for potential threats, and you, well, it seems like you have a very large problem of your own. The oh-so-dangerous can opener. It can cut you, you know." Santana smirked and pretended to shake in fear as Puck gritted his teeth.

"At least I may get some action," the brunette ended the conversation and walked away.

The girl didn't even wait for a reply as she pushed the door open to enter the gas station. Of course, she found darkness. Not many places still had electricity, and unfortunately for her, this was one of them.

Santana took out her always ready flashlight and looked around the room. It looked like a normal place, if by normal someone meant that it was ransacked as if hell was in the form of a tornado and had a party in the store. But it seemed like there was no life, or undead life, so Santana sighed and continued trekking to the bathroom.

"Damn Monster…never trusting that crap again…" Santana muttered while connecting the flashlight to the gun so she didn't have to hold both of them.

The layout for gas stations were typically the same, so she found the bathroom with no problem. A finger automatically tried to flick the light switch but no light came on.

"Of course the light wouldn't come on, dumbass. No light switch has ever worked for you since forever!" Santana berated herself in a hushed tone. For some reason, situations like these always seemed to feel better if the person was talking to themselves. Santana wasn't sure why, but it didn't make her feel more alone, even if she really was alone. But that was what she was hoping for anyways.

Peeing alone, now that was something people shouldn't do.

Santana edged herself towards one of the stalls in the bathroom while telling herself that she wasn't afraid and no zombie was going to surprise her under the door. Her grip on the gun would've broken someone's hand as she neared the closest toilet and quickly closed the door.

"Fucking bladder…"

Santana did her business as fast as possible, making sure that her ears were as concentrated as ever. The Latina didn't even bother with flushing the toilet, seeing as she wasn't even going to come back here, nor would anyone else. Public toilets were filthy anyways. She quickly exited the stall and started to make her way to the bathroom door.

Her hand was almost at the handle when she sensed a figure to her left.

Santana tensed and slowly moved her eyes. She knew that she shouldn't make any more noise, especially if the zombie hadn't made its move yet. Perhaps it didn't notice her.

Her vision inched closer to where she knew that a figure was, and as soon as she made eye contact with a definite human form, her body reacted instantly.

_BANG BANG BANG BANG!_

Santana screamed as she emptied her clip onto the zombie, but wasn't prepared enough because the recoil shot her backwards into the wall.

"Ah! Damnit!"

The room was so dark that she wasn't sure that the target was dead. Just the fact that the room was pitch black and the flashlight on her gun had turned off made Santana petrified. She wasn't sure if the zombie as still roaming around with half of its body still connected, crawling closer and closer to her. Santana's imagination grew wilder as she imagined a mouth showing more bone than skin opening wide to take a clump of her own flesh.

Santana gripped her gun and held it in front of her, ready to shoot at whatever wanted to harm her.

The door was thrown open at that moment and Santana was spooked into turning her gun towards whatever walked in.

A bright light was shone on her face which blinded her but her finger was on the trigger…

"Whoa, whoa! Santana! Don't shoot! It's just me!"

The sound of an annoying Puckerman was enough to let her gun quickly fall to the ground. The Latina breathed heavily and let herself cry the small tears that just couldn't be held any longer. She wiped sweat away from her forehead and looked up to find Puck holding out a hand to her.

Graciously, though she would never admit it, Santana took hold of Puck's hand and he helped her up.

"Was it a zombie?" Puck asked with concern.

Santana looked at where she shot while trying to still her body from shaking and Puck lightened the area with his flashlight. What the two found wasn't a rekilled zombie, but a broken mirror that was shattered by a bullet.

It took Puck a few seconds and the boy looked back and forth from the mirror to Santana. The boy then grinned.

"You shot at your reflection?" His voice that at one point held worry was now filled with humor.

Santana was quick to want to rebut, but she realized that she must've shot her reflection. The mirror was where Santana figured the zombie was, and she guessed that she hadn't heard the sound of breaking glass because the sound of her gun firing was louder.

"Fuck," Santana muttered and went to retrieve her gun that was laying on the floor. It now seemed completely stupid of her to not only freak out at such a situation, but to even tear up a little about it.

"Haha! Oh my God, you've got to be kidding. Santana Lopez was scared of her own reflection?" Puck was almost dancing in his spot at Santana's mistake. Santana barely made any mistakes and she definitely got on Puck's case if he caused any.

"It's as dark as hell in this place, Puckerman! You probably made the mistake a million times," Santana tried to reclaim her confidence but she knew it was ruined.

"Not once have I. I make sure the room is completely empty before I piss. Then I don't have to worry about a zamb getting my dick."

Santana had enough of him and shoved her way through the Neanderthal into the store, no longer shaking.

"Someone really needs to duct tape your mouth. I now know why we never find any survivors. You scare them off with the sound of your eardrum deteriorating voice." The girl angrily pushed over a few objects on her way to the exit while Puck was still in pursuit behind her. The goof was laughing like there was no tomorrow, which no one was for certain that there might be.

"I don't know about that, Santana. You probably scared them off because you thought they were zombies."

Quinn and Finn both turned their heads at the sound of a pissed off Santana and a chuckling Puck leaving the gas station. They both were aware that the rest of the trip was not going to be very fun for either of them.

"Let it drop! For God's sake, just leave it be."

"What happened?" Finn questioned warily. He was right in the middle of enjoying his tasty soup can but of course, it had to be interrupted by these two.

"Santana shot a mirror thinking that it was zombie. It was so hilarious. She was scared out of her mind!" Puck guffawed while picking up an opened can and started throwing the food down his throat. Santana tried to ignore the humiliation and ignored the food that was set out for her. She just wanted to go back in the car and get the fuck out of there.

"It wasn't _that_ funny, dickhead!" Santana picked up a rock on the floor and threw it at Puck, but the boy easily avoided it, and the action only made him laugh even louder.

"Sure it was! Isn't that so funny, Hudson?"

"Come on. I just want to eat my lunch in peace and get a move on afterwards," Finn sighed as he scraped the last bits of his meal with his spork.

Puck was still laughing his ass off while Santana trudged away and made sure that her stomping was loud enough for everyone to hear.

"S, where you going?" Quinn asked.

"Back to the car. When you're all finished laughing at a _common mistake_, you can tell me and we can leave." And with that, the Latina hopped into the driver's seat of the Hummer and slammed the door.

It shook Quinn and Finn, but the Mohawk boy continued to eat and laugh at the same time. The two remaining pack members sort of wished that he would choke on his food, but he did not, sadly.

_._._

It took much longer than expected for everyone to finish their lunch break. That left Santana to be by herself in the Hummer incredibly bored. Her stubborn self wouldn't allow the boredom to break her, though, so she decided to try to spend her time doing other things such as cleaning her gun…three times. She attempted to pass the seconds by taking apart her gun and putting it back together, but that got boring real quickly. The Latina's eyes then decided to spy on the group in the side mirror to find that they weren't even eating but walking around the gas station like they were lost or were looking for something. Santana wasn't about to go out and yell at them for wasting time. She made it clear that if they were doing something, she wasn't going to be involved in it.

The only thing that Santana did regret was not eating her lunch when it was right there, left in the open just for her. Her small stomach growled with disappointment in her actions and the only thing she could do was tell it to shush, but it's not like that would work.

Finally, after what seemed like hours and her stomach eating itself, the passenger side of the car opened and Quinn sat inside.

"What the hell took you so long?" Santana asked impatiently. Her dark eyes bore angrily at the blonde girl, who casually turned her head in the Latina's direction.

Quinn didn't let the staring penetrate her, and she calmly replied, "We were grabbing more supplies before we left. This station actually had some gas, and you know what happens whenever we find gas."

"Yeah, yeah, we take the crap 'cause we'll never know if we'll find some more. But did it really have to take that long? We could've been showering by now!"

It was obvious to Quinn that Santana just wanted to leave so that her embarrassment could be left behind as well. It's what the brunette does; she screws up then walks away from it hoping that everyone else will too. It never really works because someone will mention it later, but it allows the girl to be able to get angry at it without it being her fault.

Quinn shrugged and spoke, "You know we wouldn't even be close if we left five minutes after you ditched us and your food."

Once again, magic words were told to the Latina and her expression softened.

"Please tell me you saved my food from the bottomless gut of Puckerman," Santana practically begged.

The blonde smirked while knowing that she had the Latina right in the palm of her hand. She extended the hand that wasn't seen by the brunette to show that there were some morsels of food.

"I could hear your stomach all the way from the pumps. Here, I managed to save you— "

Quinn couldn't even finish her sentence because Santana swiped the food from the blonde's hands in mere milliseconds. Santana scarfed down the nutrients like she had been starving for months. Manners didn't matter in the world of zombies. If you get food, you eat it, and then you go hunting for more before you get hunted yourself.

"I hope that fills you up…" Quinn said with an awkward laugh. She turned to close to door so she didn't have to see Santana destroy the few pieces that were given to her.

"It will. My stomach's so small, a plum can fill it up," Santana stated, licking the last bits of food off of her fingers.

Quinn chuckled and commented, "Are you saying that because we make sure not to eat a lot, or because you practically have a four pack?"

"You like my abs, don'tcha, Quinny. Jealous?" Santana smirked.

Quinn blushed and turned away from Santana's teasing. "I, uh, I mean, it's obvious that you'd have them, since you go out running and stuff…"

It's just like Santana to make Quinn lose her words with the way she flaunts her body like a playboy bunny, if those even existed anymore. Santana only laughed at Quinn's uneasiness.

"Quit it, Santana," Quinn tried, still blushing.

"We can talk more about my wonderful abs later; I can already see Puck starting up the truck."

Sure enough, a few feet away the Ford coughed out some smoke, signaling that the gang was all ready to be out on the road again.

"Get some rest, Q," Santana spoke a bit quietly. It was as if the air changed and any non-serious actions had floated away with it.

Quinn stared at Santana. In a way, it wasn't really weird that she was acting a different emotion than a few seconds ago, but that didn't stop her from continuing to look at the girl even after Santana pulled the Hummer away from the gas station to follow the truck. But sure enough, after a few minutes, fatigue caught up to the blonde and she passed out within minutes.

Santana looked over to make sure that the girl was sleeping before she relaxed into the seat. The air around her seemed to be getting thicker, as if a storm was coming. It didn't feel good whatsoever, and Santana wasn't one to ignore signs like that. Her grandma may have been crazy, but when it came to gut feelings, she was surely right about that.

"_Your gut is always right, Santana. Remember that. It knows more than you ever will,_" her grandmother used to rant in Spanish at the brunette. Santana always used to think that it was a senses kind of thing; that if your eyes saw a movement or your ears heard something, and then there were bad situations to come. After Day 0, she couldn't agree more that her senile-turning grandmother was right. Sometimes your gut knew more than your brain ever will.

_._._

"_Hey Santana. We're coming up to the town real quick. Wanna pull over so you and Quinn can switch?"_

The sound of Hudson's annoyingly boyish voice reverberating through the radio broke the Latina out of her daydream about hamburgers. She was just enjoying the memory of the sweet greases mixed with ketchup and pickle juice until her wonderful dream had been broken by whale-lard. In a way, Santana was ashamed that she was more likely to get turned on by dreaming about unhealthy meats than actual sexy stuff, but it wasn't like anyone could read her mind. And if they could, they would be the ones getting scarred for life.

The brunette reached over to grab the walkie-talkie and pressed the button to speak into it.

"And why would I want to wake sleeping beauty from her wonderful nap to drive?"

"_Because 1. She's been sleeping for like, five hours. And B. if there are zombies in the area, you're more likely to take them out easily than she is._"

It was obvious that Puck had taken the radio from Finn's hands to answer. Even if she didn't recognize the difference in their voices from the terrible static of the device, Puck mixing up letters and numbers was just too easy to identify.

"Puck, are you sure you don't miss school? Because I bet it misses you," Santana joked through the radio.

It took the boy a second to realize what she was talking about, and Santana could just see Finn realizing it sooner than Puck and Hudson chuckling at the stupidity.

It was proven when the radio came back in with someone muttering "Ow!" and Puck's voice coming back in replying, "_Shut it, Santana. Do you wanna switch or not?"_

The voice then changed back into Finn's. "_Yeah, San. We really don't know what to expect in this place. If rumors are true, the town should be crawling with crawlers."_

Santana thought over it for a second. Rumors, like anywhere else, are less likely to be true than they are to actually be believable. Plenty of times, the group had heard rumors about a specific area holding some sort of sanctuary away from it all. But when the team got to the specified place, all it was was a nest full of zombies just ready to ambush them.

But what would it hurt if Santana got a break from driving? Her right foot did need some rest from speeding up and slowing down too much. She had a lead foot, and that made making sure she didn't ram into Puck's truck even harder than it should've been, especially since Puck was a speeder, which was why they even got to the place hours before expected arrival.

The Latina brought the radio back to her lips and said, "Okay, fine. Pull over, dimwits. But I'm not going to be the one to wake up the princess here."

_._._

As foreseen, when Finn went over to prod Quinn awake, the blonde let out a lashing fury. They say that sleepwalkers should never be awakened because then they'll go apeshit on your ass, but it's really victims of a zombie apocalypse, or any other mind corrupting event, that you really have to watch out for. No one these days sleeps without some sort of weapon on their hands, and if you were awaking someone that was Quinn, one of the only people in the world that prefers sleep over food, then you were just asking for a bad time.

It wasn't the first time that someone had to wake a sleeping Quinn, and both boys new that it wouldn't turn out well. They decided to do rock-paper-scissors to decide who would be the unlucky sap that had to do the deed. All Santana did was lean against the truck wishing ever so badly that she had a box of popcorn for her to munch on.

"One, two, three, go!" the two said together.

"Aw, no fair!"

"Haha, Finn. It's your turn."

"Come on, best two out of three?"

"Nope. You lost. Now go get ready for a new battle scar."

Finn walked away with his head drooped and it took all she could for Santana not to laugh. Puck looked in her direction and they just smirked at one another, ever so thankful that it was Finn that was going to do this.

"Now remember Finnocense, as soon as you touch her, you have to jump away, or else she'll get you real deep and you may lose a body part," Santana teased from her safe distance.

"It's like you're an expert at this," Finn just muttered.

"Naw, I just know her, but good luck anyhow!" It was fake happiness and good jitters, but this was one of the times that Santana could actually smile without trying too hard. In a way, it may make her sadistic that she enjoys others' sufferings, but these are the stories that they'll share later at a campfire (if they even make it that far) and she wouldn't be able to not laugh a little.

Finn inched closer and closer to the sleeping body. The door to the passenger seat was already opened and Quinn was just snoozing away as if she was in her own little protected world. It was funny if you thought about it. She could sleep through the sounds of construction work, but one tiny touch and she would instantly wake up. Santana wasn't sure what kind of sleeping that was considered, but it was definitely interesting to know.

"Remember," Puck whispered even though he didn't need to. "Poke, then jump."

It seemed like it took hours for Finn to finally make it a few inches from the blonde's body, and slowly, he reached out with his index finger to lightly touch Quinn's tanned arm and retreat quickly.

But he wasn't fast enough.

Quinn's eyes opened instantly and before Finn even recognized movement, the blonde already had unsheathed her dagger that was always on her left hip and sliced it up the boy's arm. It didn't even stop her that she was buckled into the car, but her speed and Finn's gangly movements were enough of an equation to make Finn fall backwards, hissing as his body hit the dirty ground.

"Damn it!" Finn yelled, and it finally hit Quinn that it wasn't a zombie that she had just injured.

"Oh, God. Finn!"

Santana and Puck just stood back and watched as Quinn hastily unbuckled her seatbelt and jumped to Finn's aid.

"How many times have I told you people? Don't wake me up!" Quinn said with a mixture of anger and worry. The blonde took Finn's arm, who was still hissing and whining on the ground, and searched it to see how badly she hurt him.

"I think next time, we should just throw a rock at her," Puck commented to Santana.

The brunette smiled at the thought and jokingly answered, "Then she may injure the car, and I actually like this one."

"Pff. I bet we can find a Jaguar if we looked hard enough."

"Would you two quit joking around over there and help me?! I think I got him really bad." Quinn looked at them with frustration. Santana would've just shrugged it off as another 'nature will heal it' thing, but then she saw a small tear leave Quinn's eyes, and she knew that doing that would only make her even more of an ass.

"Fuck," Santana muttered and left her post to trudge over to the wussy that was practically bawling on the dirt. "Seriously, Quinn, I doubt you killed him."

She kneeled down towards the boy and yanked his arm away from the other girl. Santana didn't care if that motion made Finn hurt even more. She believed that he deserved it, the stupid slow punk that he was.

"I may have injured a tendon or something," Quinn spoke worriedly behind her and Santana looked over the wound.

"First Puck, now Hudson. I think our boys have a knack at hurting themselves." She looked closer to find the boy's blood spilling out like someone was squeezing it, but the cut didn't look too deep. At least, not enough to call immediate medical attention.

"I didn't want this…" Finn muttered while keeping his eyes closed.

"It's not like anyone would want this, let alone you, Finnocense," Santana shot back, still disgusted at how much of a baby that Hudson was being. At age 17, the boy really should be able to handle such injuries. "I'm gonna have to stitch it, and if you so much as whimper, I'm going to make sure that it hurts way more than it could."

The words caused the boy to look straight at Santana. She could see worry and fear written all over his face, but that wouldn't stop her from doing what needed to be done. The wound wouldn't heal correctly if it was just to be left alone like that.

"Quinn has a superpower when it comes to stabbing," Santana continued and dropped Finn's arm to get her supplies out from her small medkit. "Puck was right when he said that you would be coming out with a battle scar. I hope the survivors we may never meet think those are sexy."

She could just hear Puck snort from where he still was leaning on the truck. Quinn and Finn didn't say a thing as Santana once again took Finn's arm and held a small amount of rubbing alcohol on a tissue close to the wound.

"Like I said, if you make any non-manly noise, I won't make this a happy experience for you," Santana warned again.

But it's not like it would do anything.

_._._

"He's never had anything like that happen to him before. How could he not cry when he was staring at your hand sticking a needle in his arm?"

Quinn always took the side of good, even when Santana knew that Finn could've toughened up if he wanted to.

"I wouldn't be as mad at him about him crying maniacally at me stitching him up if he didn't start yelping and bawling when I cleaned his wound. Sheesh. It's like he never hurt himself before."

Santana had been keeping a lookout on the road ever since she fixed up Finn-the-giant-baby's arm. No one wanted to be sitting in there longer than they did (Santana secretly was worried that the shouting that Finn made attracted unwanted attention from the walking dead). So, Quinn pulled Santana into the Hummer and Hudson whined that he was in no condition to drive, so he took shotgun and kept a pistol in his right hand, the uninjured arm.

"It was the thought that scared him, and your threat didn't help." Quinn shook her head and Santana only shrugged. Her threats were made so that people knew she wouldn't go easy on them. No one was supposed to think that easy things happened nowadays. They just had to be reminded of that.

"Whatever. Now we got two dimwits with matching bandages. Were my ears accurate when they overheard Puck actually excited that they were 'bruise buddies'?"

Quinn sighed, and it was unnecessary for her to have to answer that question because it was just like Puck to say something like that.

Santana rolled her eyes and looked back out at the scenery. She had her AK-47 in hand, just eager to take out some bodies. It always comforted her. She was in control for once and there wasn't anyone to tell her otherwise. Question was: where were the zombies?

"Is it just me, or are we lacking a crucial element for this world-ending phenomenon?" Santana asked, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand as if that would show some victims.

"You're right…" Quinn squinted from where she sat and also looked around for the missing undead. It was eerie that they had already entered the town, yet not a single risen body was seen. "Maybe they're more in the center of town?"

"I don't know… I do know that they live in packs but, do you think that they actually migrate?"

Santana turned her head to Quinn to see if she had an answer for that. Zombies weren't smart. All they had was animal instincts and opposable thumbs. That couldn't be enough to make them vanish from a town that should have at least 50 zombies going for a stroll on this casual day.

"_Hey guys. Welcome to Random Deserted Town, USA. Population: Where the fuck are the zombies?"_

Quinn took the radio and raised an eyebrow at Puck's observations.

"We were just thinking the same thing. Maybe they moved?" Quinn responded.

_"Moved? What, like they decided this place was too empty of flesh and just ditched to an actual city?"_

"Do you have any better ideas?" Quinn shot back. It wasn't because Puck was once again being an idiot, but Santana knew that she was feeling the same exact thing that was going around in her body. This was just too eerie.

_"Maybe they're sleeping? Do zombies even sleep?"_

The fail at a joke wasn't enough to even make the girls chuckle. Something really wasn't right here, and once again, Santana's gut felt true to its word.

"Gimmie the walkie-talkie," Santana commanded and Quinn obliged, quickly going back to scanning the area as she drove.

"Puck, be logical here. The sun is nearly setting and we saw walkers in the town right before this one. From what all of us have experienced, zombies don't sleep. I feel like we're waiting for a giant earthquake or something."

The radio buzzed in again for Santana to hear Finn in the background discussing what she just mentioned. It was good that somebody knew her thoughts were right.

_"Okay. Finn agrees that we should find shelter as soon as we can. The supermarket isn't too far from here, just a few blocks. We'll call that home, barricade it just in case, and deal with this tomorrow."_

Santana peered at the driver to find that she was less tense than a minute ago, and if Quinn could calm down slightly, then so could Santana.

"Deal. I just want my shower already."

_"As you wish, malady." _

Santana rolled her eyes and set her gun back onto her shoulder. She had no need for it anyways since there was nothing to shoot. It's not like the thing was made of clouds and marshmallows.

Blocks went by and not another sound was made except for the car's engine. For some reason, Santana felt that constricting feeling in her stomach the closer they got to the supermarket. At first, the brunette thought the feeling was because of the lack of zombies, but then she realized that maybe that wasn't what was going on.

Her body was nervous about the supermarket. She realized that when they finally pulled around to the acres where the building resided.

And with good reason that her gut was causing mischief.

The supermarket was already barricaded.


	3. Chapter 3: The Big, Big Bang

It was like any normal supermarket that someone would see in an urban area. It was huge, nicely decorated for cars to notice, and most likely contained an infinite amount of food, equipment, and the occasional skunk spray. What made it completely different from any other typical superstore was the fact that the parking lot was entirely empty, and any noticeable entrances were filled to the brim with heavy material. It definitely kept anyone out of the store, but it also seemed like it kept people in there as well.

"It's like a fucking tornado whipped up a bunch of shit and shoved it in the doors…" Santana murmured mostly to herself, staring at the massive display of zombie apoco art. Her hand was gripping the radio like it was a lifeline, and her mind wasn't sure if she should even word her very confused thoughts to the boys.

But just seeing that someone, not something, made such a mess forced Santana's gut to feel so terrible and twisted that she almost vomited.

"I'm not imagining this, am I?" Quinn asked quietly beside her. Her body was still maneuvering the car to follow the truck into the parking lot, but her eyes seemed glued to the scenery before them. Santana could just imagine what the blonde was thinking: More survivors. Hopefully.

"You should go poke it," Santana responded to Quinn's obvious rhetorical question.

Quinn didn't even acknowledge Santana's words.

_"I'm not sure what to make of this, guys," _Finn broadcasted to the two girls. The truck was slowing down in front of them, a few yards away from the giant blockade. Quinn copied the movement with the Hummer and soon, both cars were sitting idle, just waiting for their passengers to figure out what the hell they were supposed to do.

Santana didn't even notice that Quinn took the radio out of her hands. The brunette's mind was still on the fact that this town was nothing as she pictured it. Nothing really surprised the girl anymore, but this was something that beat even the unknown events that the days normally brought.

"It means survivors, Finn," Quinn hushed so lowly that Santana could barely hear the words.

Santana finally looked away from the store when she saw the doors of the truck open from her peripheral vision. That action told her brain that she should do the same, because her brain had stopped working as soon as she witnessed this unusual predicament.

She didn't have to walk too far for the two boys to catch up to her, bewilderment seen in both of their eyes.

After a few seconds of silence between the three, Puck lifted his head to look behind the Latina and stated, "I think Quinn is frozen. I'll go get her."

Santana wasn't sure why Puck even volunteered to do such a thing when earlier he wasn't so happy with the girl, but she didn't complain as the boy went to the side of the car and easily opened the door. Santana and Finn just watched as Puck cooed Quinn out from her shocked position and led her to the rest of the group.

It _was_ like Quinn was frozen. Santana couldn't fathom why in the world Quinn would be so reclusive about the fact that their thoughts were just a tiny bit wrong. It's not like she just discovered her parents dead.

"I think this is a good thing," Finn broke the silence. "Maybe Quinn is right and there are others inside of there."

Puck and Santana, the only two that really could respond to Finn's words, thought through what he was saying.

"I just find it really weird that this is even happening. It's like nothing we guessed was right, and we're usually right," Santana shrugged. It was still giving her the willies, but she was slowly going into serious-mode.

"I know," Finn agreed. "But perhaps this is meant as a sign or something. I say that we go in there and find out who it is that made this possible." Finn pointed to the area that everyone couldn't help but stare at, and just the small reminder made them look again at the impossibility.

"Just one thing, Hudson. If we go in there with our grimy looks and weapons, I'm pretty sure that they'll think we want to blow their heads off, or that we're zombies that learned how to shoot a gun." Puck, for once, actually stated something useful, and that only made Santana think more strongly about their current situation.

It seemed like Finn didn't even process that reaction beforehand because his expression dropped with disappointment.

"Well, what would you do?" Finn asked, trying to recover from his lack of thinking.

"Knock on the door?"

That earned the mohawk'd boy insane stares from the two.

Santana breathed a sigh and readjusted the straps on her gun. "Knock on the…what? Are you nuts? You want us to go to the door that doesn't even have anywhere that would get sound through to the other side and ask for a cup of sugar?"

"Uhm…it's better than going in there guns ablazing."

The brunette shook her head and finally looked at the only other girl in the group. She prayed with all her might that Quinn would snap out of this trance and help her. It wasn't even like Quinn at all to just check out, but then again, Santana didn't even know the lengths of how messed up Quinn's mind was.

"Please Quinn, help?"

It was staring at Quinn with the most puppy-dog eyes that Santana could muster that she realized that the blonde wasn't actually looking off into nothing. There was a focus in the other girl's eyes that the Latina wouldn't have noticed earlier if she hadn't really been looking.

"Quinn…what are you seeing?"

Slowly, Santana turned to try to focus on the blonde's line of vision, and what she saw would make her freeze up as well.

Finn said the word before anyone else could even mention it in their heads.

"Survivor."

And sure enough, if one could look through the mess that surrounded all the entrances, including the side one, someone could see a small girl with brunette hair picking through the bunch. The four saw the girl easily enough, yet no one knew how to approach her, or even if they should. The girl hadn't even noticed the pack, but there was also something that Santana saw right at the side of the girl, and at her angle, only Santana could see it.

Not another moment passed before Santana flipped her gun into her hands and aimed at the head of a zombie that was almost on top of the unsuspecting girl.

_BANG!_

_._._

If it wasn't the sound of the bullet being fired to alert any presence, the scream from the unknown girl would've caused an army of zombies to march right into the place.

Santana wasn't even aware of what she had done until after she had done it. In a way, she kind of felt disappointed that the bullet was on target and didn't miss the girl's head that was only millimeters apart from Santana's view. The scream was loud enough to be heard from miles away, but it also lasted much longer than it should, and that immediately annoyed the Latina.

"Fucking hell, Santana!" Puck screamed, trying to be heard over the other girl's nonstop, blood curdling cries.

It was Quinn that finally set her feet in motion. Like the sound of the high pitched girl broke Quinn out of the phase, the blonde sprinted as fast as she could to the small brunette while Santana just stood there, still wondering what the hell happened.

Finn was next to follow suit and try to stop the girl from screaming any more than she already had, but by the time Finn took one step, Quinn had already reached the girl and tackled her to the ground, placing a very strong hand on the brunette's mouth.

"What the fuck are you waiting for, Lopez?! She may have already alerted her group to bring out the weapons!"

And then Puck raced to try to help out the terrible situation that Santana placed for everybody.

Santana didn't even try to place a step forward. She was shell-shocked, too. It was one thing to shoot the brains of a zombie when it was just feet away from Quinn, but it was a completely other story when it was barely inches away from a girl she didn't even know. Normal Santana wouldn't have even risked the shot. Normal Santana would've yelled out or let someone else do something. Normal Santana wouldn't have tried to save the girl, even when she was fully confident that she could. It was just too risky for anyone.

Santana didn't even notice that her butt had met the ground until a small storm of sand puffed up into her nose, causing the Latina to cough roughly. The sand burned at her eyes and she tried to wipe the small substance away, but the girl also thought she was trying to wipe her carelessness away as well. Why were things continuously screwing up for her?

After what seemed like a lot of eye wiping and barely any thoughts floating around in her brain, Santana registered that the screaming had stopped. Whatever Quinn or Finn or, most unlikely, Puck did, it seemed to work. Santana didn't notice any gunshots, but she was still sitting in the dirt, not even daring to move, less she risked another bullet.

"Stupid…" the Latina muttered to herself. She should've let the damn girl die. If the girl was stupid enough to be out there and not even be aware of her surroundings, then she sure as hell didn't deserve to survive that potential attack. But Santana was calling herself stupid, because no matter what, that's what she'll always be.

A strong hand had grabbed Santana's forearm before the brunette could notice that a figure had even approached her. The hand was strong, but unfamiliar. Santana didn't even care, though. She screwed up big time, and if these were the survivors, then her fate, and her pack's fate, was in their hands. And it was all her fault.

"Come on," the voice commanded her, but in a soothing way, not one that held hostility. It was only because of that fact did she help in lifting her sorry bum off of the floor. The hand, who was connected to a guy from the voice, didn't let go of her but led her to the side of the building that Santana was sure had been completely barricaded. It registered in Santana's mind that the guy wasn't very forceful, just enough to make sure that she was still with him. It didn't help that she was still in some area of her mind where everything was wrong. Soon enough, Santana approached the area where the brunette girl was discovered, and the closer that the Latina walked to the scene of the crime, the worse the knots in her stomach became.

Her eyes blinked when they noticed that none of her pack members, nor the girl, were there anymore. The only evidence of Santana's crime was the dead zombie on the floor, the bullet easily having been shot through his right eye. Santana then wondered how long she had been on the floor berating herself.

Her vision was quickly turned from the body to a small hole in the barricade. It was just enough to let through one person at a time. The man who had brought Santana to this hole lightly pushed her to indicate that she should go through. Santana had no other choice but to follow his command.

At first it was dark as night, if the night had no moon or any stars in the sky and wasn't by any living city. Santana felt goose-bumps rise on her skin when she thought that she had no clue what was going on, or any idea about where her friends were. Tears started stinging her eyes at the fear. Fear wasn't a common emotion for Santana, except in her dreams, and when she was afraid, it hit hard.

It took her feet a long time until she walked to what must've been the door that lead to the exit that she just entered. The door was closed, and Santana could feel the room suffocating her. There were definitely plenty of materials that could easily block a horde. Whoever these people were, they did know how to stop the inevitable.

Santana jumped at the sound of something screeching against the floor.

"Whoa, it's alright. I'm just closing the hole," spoke the voice of the man. His reassurance did nothing for Santana's nerves, who had now forced the girl to break out into a cold sweat. "You can open the door now."

Santana stood in place, not really wanting to know what was beyond the door. Santana supposed that the guy realized that she had no intention of moving, so he reached over her to turn the knob and push the door open.

Light instantly filled the dark room, but it wasn't a lot of light; not what would normally be seen at a supermarket.

"It's dim," Santana spoke for the very first time to the unknown man. Surprisingly, the man chuckled.

The brunette turned to look at why he would be chuckling and set eyes on the person that led him here.

The boy could be no older than 18, if that was her guess at his age. His hair was a bright blonde that was quite shaggy, but it was obvious just from the combination of his hair and smirk (him smirking with a ridiculously large pair of lips) that this guy wasn't someone who would easily murder. He wore casual clothes that looked clean enough, but what stood out was his skin. His Caucasian skin was practically flawless to Santana's. No dirt. No grime. It looked like it was washed with nice soap and water. Santana could swear that she smelled a hint of strawberries, and it was coming from the boy.

"We're trying to save electricity," the boy with big, trouty-like lips replied to her comment. "That's why it's not bright."

Santana wasn't sure what to do or say in reply. She was sure that the people in here would at least be the age of 25; not the girl that looked like she hadn't even graduated High School yet nor Troutymouth who looked like he wanted to say a joke to ease Santana's nerves.

The boy started walking and turned around to beckon Santana to follow.

"It's okay. You're friends are here as well, safe and sound," Troutymouth stated with kind eyes.

Santana, still surprised at the discovery of two kids her age, slowly started to walk in the direction that Troutymouth was taking her. The boy took slow steps, possibly to ensure that Santana was following along and being careful. For some reason, she figured the store would be smaller on the inside, but it looked endless from her position. Each step made a small echoing sound, which only confirmed at how wide this area was. _How many other people were hiding in here? _Santana wondered.

"You and your friends look like…shit," Troutymouth's voice practically boomed in the quietness that had surrounded them.

It was that comment that made Santana really look at the boy, and her nerves and shyness practically melted away. He was smirking at her. Smirking. As if this was just some casual get-together in a club and he was trying to make friends.

"Well, I try to make myself look the shittiest," Santana responded as she made sure that she added a bit of acid to her tone. This boy's supposed pack member almost got killed, and she almost shot the girl, yet this kid was trying to joke with her?

Santana disliked people that didn't take this zombie mess seriously. Those are the ones that make the most stupid mistakes and cause everyone to die a horrible and painful death. In every movie, Santana always wishes that it was those types of characters to die first, because really, they deserve it.

Troutymouth was quick to realize Santana's non-humorous tone, unlike Puck and Finn, and quickly rearranged his emotions to show worry.

"Oh, no! I didn't mean to like, offend you or anything. I was only trying to make small talk."

Santana didn't let up her emotions as she stared down at the boy while they still walked the aisles of the store.

"Where are my friends?" Santana demanded. The scowl on the Latina's face only made Troutymouth even more uncomfortable. He started to fidget with his hands and his eyes roamed away from the girl's.

"They're with the others right now."

It took all Santana had not to groan at the vague reply.

"Can you be more specific and not freeze up like I asked you what your dirtiest secret is?" Santana hissed.

"I, uh," Troutymouth kind of spoke. Santana almost turned into Snix-mode before she realized why he hadn't answered her question. The two of them had walked quite a bit and finally entered an area that opened up largely. No longer were there shelves after shelves of objects that Santana hadn't taken the time to scrutinize, but a massive area that the brunette could call a "living room", emphasis on the living. Especially when the living was located right there, and heard her very recent question that contained something only her friends would know that she would say.

"Right here…" the blond boy softly spoke and paused in his steps.

Every eye was on her. Santana couldn't even count how many people were sitting or standing in this living room because of the embarrassment that was put on her. She easily saw Finn, Puck and Quinn, but in the few seconds she had to look over the group of people questioning her sanity, she could count more than six pairs of eyes.

"Uhm," Santana gulped and wasn't sure what move she should make. Her first impression of these hopefully not murderous group of…kids? Yes, she was right, they were kids. Her first impression of these kids not much older than she was had been of her being bitchy. Kids…Santana couldn't believe it.

"Santana…" Quinn spoke over the quietness of the rest of them. Santana's eyes quickly locked onto Quinn's hazel ones. It was then that Santana noticed that Quinn was hovering by the girl that she saved before, the short brunette one.

Santana's eyes then skittered over to Puck who was not only smirking but also shaking his head as if to say, "This was totally a Santana move".

If the Latina wasn't in the spotlight, she would've shown him what was _really_ a Santana move.

"Well, this is awkward."

The voice that projected those accurate words didn't come from the brunette's pack. Instead, Santana's eyes found that the source was from a dark skinned girl who, quite unusually, was not as skin and bone as Santana had seen in the other few survivors that she had come across.

Santana raised an eyebrow at the girl's bold move and decided that she had to do something since no one else was saving her ass. She figured that taking down a mall's worth of zombies was easier than this situation.

"This is very awkward indeed…" Santana started. "May I just add to the awkwardness one sec? Yeah? Okay, who the hell are you people and why are you stuck in a town that's supposed to be covered with zombies like they're packed in a sardine can?"

"Santana!" The Latina didn't need to turn to know that Quinn was giving her a scolding look at Santana's question. That only added to Santana's bitchiness.

"Oh, and also, why was one of you, uhm," Santana peered around again to locate the girl that Quinn was sitting next to. "You. Why were you out there as zombie bait? Seriously? Do you have a death wish for the worst possible way to die or are you really that stupid?"

"Oh my God…" Santana's eyes glimpsed over to see Quinn's head in her hands and heard Puck laugh. She could just imagine that embarrassment on Finnocense's face.

"Excuse me?"

It was the girl that Santana had singled out. Those two words. It only took those two words for Santana to automatically dislike the girl. The short brunette had spoken with such high authority emanating in those two words. She stood up, showing just how short she really was, and walked over to the Latina, quite shakily, but still with more pride than Santana had ever seen, even in the snobby girls at her school.

"I am not stupid Miss-"

"Santana," the Latina replied, even though the girl didn't even ask. Santana didn't allow her voice to falter at the other girl's superiority complex. The Latina held her ground and crossed her arms, awaiting what it was that this pipsqueak had in store for her.

"Miss Santana." The girl's brown eyes looked right into the Latina's while her annoying voice was sounding out the brunette's name, making sure she was saying her enemy's identity right, Santana supposed. It was even more bothersome how she was being so formal yet so repulsive. "I can assure you that the very last thing I am is stupid. In fact, in school I maintained a GPA of 4.0 while keeping up with very rigorous courses. I was not outside for joy, Santana." This time, the shorter girl spoke her name with the same acidity that Santana had used on Troutymouth. "We were looking for something very specific that must have been recovered before the night settled and I was the one to do it."

The words pretty much went through one ear and out the other, except for the ones that Santana could use for her own terror.

"Not stupid, huh? Then how was it that you almost got bitten tonight?" Santana made sure to smirk slightly at that.

It quickly became obvious that the rest of the group had not known about this big mouth's almost episode.

"What? You almost got attacked?" asked some Asian boy in the far corner with an equally Asian chick beside him.

"It wasn't that big of a deal…" the girl, possibly Jewish because Santana had finally noticed her humongous nose, attempted to rebut.

It was a nerdy boy in a wheelchair that spoke next, "Not that big of a deal? You know that not only is it a problem that one was in the vicinity, but if you got attacked, we wouldn't have been able to-"

"I know! I know you wouldn't have been able to save me!" Jewnose shouted. "But I'm alive… I'm alive because-"

"Because I killed him before he got her," Santana answered in the midst of their conversation. It may not have been right for Santana to do so, but she didn't care. She didn't want to feel kicked out of her and bigmouth's little bitch-off but she also wanted to prove something, like this group shouldn't completely count her out. Santana had already proven that she really wasn't friendly material, but there was a reason why her pack was in the store.

Santana would've bet that she could hear a pin drop at the silence that once again was made because of her. Eleven pairs of eyes, Santana was able to count the group which also included her pack, was once again found on the Latina. It was looking at each and every different person's eyes that she found how everyone thought of her then. They were questionable, accusing, confused, except for one. It was easy to discover this one set of eyes that seemed different from the group. It was a pair of blue eyes, too blue to even be normal, that were staring at her with something like… amazement.

Santana didn't look too long at that weird one.

"How?" The accusation, in a very untrusting tone, was asked by a boy who screamed flamboyant. Santana looked at the boy who's hair was done up as if he was going on for a night in New York with clothes to match.

"What do you think? I shot him. Straight in the eye."

"Impossible," the boy in the wheelchair stated. Santana put that kid on her disliked list as well. Not trusting Santana's shooting was like not trusting that humans were supposed to breathe.

"Actually…" Troutymouth lifted a hand behind his head to scratch some invisible itch. "I saw the zombie myself. Bullet in his right eye, just like Santana had said."

"Yeah. Santana is the best shot this world has ever seen. Seriously, she'd shoot at you with a distance of miles in between and still get you in a vital organ," Puck jumped in with such a smile on his face that unless someone was an idiot, they wouldn't believe his words to be true. Puck was proud for Santana, for whatever foolish reason that he had. But as long as the others believed him, Santana was sure that things would be okay.

Until some annoying kid in a wheelchair ordered, "Prove it."

"You want me to prove it? Right here?" Santana asked in bewilderment, her eyebrows raised in question at his seriously screwed up command.

"Yeah, why not. You have a gun," the kid pointed to the pistol that she always carried on her right leg. "And there are plenty of targets. Pick one and shoot it."

It wasn't like Santana didn't want to show off what she had. In fact, she wanted every person in this room to see what she was capable off so that they wouldn't cross her. So when Santana smirked at the wheelchair'd boy's insane request, not a single person was able to capture the speed that erupted right after.

Just as quick as she was to kill off that zombie, Santana swiped the gun from its pouch and aimed at the farthest shoot-able object that she could see within a half a second time limit.

It was poster on the exact opposite end of the store. Santana couldn't see the wording on it, but it was just big enough for her to notice some kid with a smile that was too happy to be realistic. Not even caring if it was a boy or a girl, Santana quickly aimed and pulled the trigger.

And exactly like with the zombie, she had gotten the he/she in the right eye.

"Are you happy?" Santana asked as she turned around and replaced her gun back in the holder. The surprised look on the wheelchair boy and the loudmouth bitch was enough to want to send Santana into a laughing fit, but she held it in. She still wanted to seem badass.

"Told ya," Puck muttered under his voice, also trying to conceal a laugh.

"Okay, I believe this chick," the dark skinned girl commented with her hands raised. At least someone wasn't going to put up a fight with the Latina.

Wheelchair boy shrugged with a hint of disappointment, Santana noticed, yet the others accepted Santana's talent, still wearing their shocked faces, except when Santana once again locked eyes with the mysterious blue ones that she had seen before. This second time made Santana see that the eyes belonged to a girl who was, of course, around her age and had blonde hair that just flowed around her.

For some reason, Santana had to look away at her newfound discovery of the girl. The amazed expression that she had caused nerves to travel through Santana's body, and that was the last thing that Santana wanted to feel at that moment.

"Can you answer my question now?" Santana prodded, wanting at least some confusion to disappear. She walked casually over to Quinn and sat down next to her, ignoring the penetrating stares that the hazel eyed girl was giving her. Quinn shouldn't even be mad at the Latina because she practically ensured their place in this sanctuary.

"What was the question?" Troutymouth had asked when no one else stepped forward. Santana knew that the big-lipped boy wasn't like angryface'd Jewgirl and accusing inaccessible wheelchair kid. Maybe he could be a temporary "friend" in this place until the pack got what they wanted and ditched them.

"What are you doing here?" Finn answered for her. It was the first time that Finn had spoken in the presence of this new group, that Santana was able to witness, anyways.

The question echoed in the room. Just looking into each and every pair of eyes that wasn't the pack, Santana was able to see some form of melancholy or despair, even in the eyes of the blue eyed girl. For some reason, Santana hovered over that girl. The look of sadness didn't complement her at all.

The girl locked eyes with Santana, which made Santana quickly avert her gaze. Santana didn't want to seem like she was doing something she wasn't supposed to.

The other kids looked around at each other as if trying to decide who was going to answer.

In the end, it was shrimp brunette who spoke.

"We're…waiting for our teacher."

Santana almost choked on her spit.

"What?!" the Latina exclaimed. "You're waiting for a stupid school teacher to come and save your asses?!"

The tiny brunette whipped her head to face Santana and narrowed her eyes.

"It's not like that."

"Then please, tell me what it's like before I decide that you're all crazy."

"Would you shut it, Santana?" Quinn whispered next to her in a harsh tone. Santana looked incredulously back at her. Quinn should be on Santana's side, not the midget's. "Let Rachel speak."

"Whoa, whoa. Hold up a sec."

The small brunette was just about to explain when Santana held up her finger to stop any sound coming from the girl's throat.

Santana turned her direction towards the girl. "Your name is Rachel?"

"Uhm…" The brunette looked unsure about Santana's own sanity. "Yeah, why?"

Santana just shook her head. "It all makes sense now."

"What does?" Puck asked from behind.

"You have been on my nerves ever since I saved your damn life out there, and I've learned that your name is Rachel. Do you have any idea how annoying that name is? It fits you perfectly! If I knew that sooner, then I would've prepared for all of…" Santana paused and tried to explain with hand motions what she mean, which only ended up with the Latina waving her hands indicating Rachel's entire body. "You."

"Am I supposed to be offended at this?" Rachel asked, her brown eyes bulging from their sockets.

Santana shrugged, "Probably. I mean, every single Rachel I had ever met was either a total bitch or someone that I wanted to tape their mouth shut. You've already proven the latter."

"Okay, that is enough Santana!" Quinn spoke. Santana was just about to turn around and calm the beast that was her supposed best friend, but as soon as she drifted her eyes from Rachel to Quinn, she froze in her spot. Quinn was staring death at Santana, as if Santana had just broke the last straw on the blonde's back. It was almost like Quinn wanted to give the Latina a black eye because of her bitchiness (which Santana probably earned more than enough of those, but it was her personality. Can't really fix that). The thing was, Quinn had always been patient with the brunette, even at her worst times. For some reason, not even an hour and a half in this place and she's already changed more than she has before.

"Quinn…?" Santana asked cautiously, as if one wrong move and the blonde would attack her.

Quinn only sighed while trying to calm her anger. "How about you go take a shower, San. Just before you got here, Rachel was talking about their showering situation and it's what you wanted. You can go take that bath, calm yourself, and then maybe we can get back to talking about other things. I think you just need a break."

It was a bit embarrassing that the room was so quiet. If anything, these kids were the most well behaved group that Santana had ever seen, at least when it came to awkward moments such as this one. _What, were they little puppies that couldn't do anything without their mommy? _Santana thought.

The Latina stood up regardless, figuring that a nice shower was worth well more than continuing to sit there and hear the annoying voice that has a name. Rachel; Santana scoffed in her mind. The sooner the pack got what it wanted, the sooner that she would no longer be in _Rachel_'s breathing space.

Santana was just about to walk to the showers with everyone's eyes on her when she paused and realized, "Uhm, where the hell am I going?"

Troutymouth took it upon himself to respond to her, "It's right by the bakery section, where the girl's bath is." His finger pointed to a door right by the large sign that said "Sweets N' Treats". "There's a tub in there where you just turn on the sink and fill it up. Should be somewhat warm."

"Thanks…" Santana replied without enthusiasm. The Latina strode away quickly to try to avoid any more embarrassment.

It didn't take too long for the Latina to reach the so-called "shower rooms" and close the door behind her to shut out all of the curious eyes that she knew had been following her. After she heard the shut of the door, Santana put her back to the door and slid down onto her butt.

"Finally," she sighed with her eyes closed. She sighed with slight contempt that is normally not found in her life. Between having to share the some air as a dimwitted Puckerman and a funsucking Finnocense, there is no time for sighing with any happiness, just sighing with annoyance.

Santana then allowed her thoughts to wander a little. She ended up rubbing her hand on her head to try to forget the stress of all of this new shit that she had to deal with and will have to in the future. Between this new bitch called Rachel and the fact that Quinn had an attitude change, Santana figured that things weren't going to be different for the better, nor would they pass on so easily.

That earned a sigh of frustration from the brunette.

"I just can't win, can I?" Santana muttered to herself. With a shake of her head, the Latina stood up from the door and walked over to the sinks where she could clearly see this group's showering situation.

What they called a shower was actually what Troutymouth had said. There were about ten sinks, with a few of them having tubes hooked up to the sink's nozzle, which then led to a few fairly large tubs in the middle of this bathroom.

Santana wasn't too picky about what kind of a shower she'd have to bathe herself in; whether it be dirty or not. She did wonder, though, "Where do they put the dirty water afterwards…?" But she only shrugged. It'd be their problem later on, she figured.

On her way to the tub, Santana started to relieve her body from her filthy clothing. It had been days since she really gave her clothing a good wash, let alone her body. That didn't mean that the pack didn't have any clothes, it's just that there was only a few pairs of anything and there should be more room for the useful stuff like ammo and food than for simple clothing. Santana would just go naked if it meant that no one would be looking at her with their mouths wide open and drool coming out, or the fact that clothing is just a simple way to keep from getting scratched by a zombie. Santana wasn't above being knowledgeable about how good she did look. A zombie apocalypse would ruin someone, especially the stress, but Santana's body wasn't all that much affected by this situation. She just didn't want to be constantly ogled by Puckerman and Finn (who she know would deny but she did catch him plenty of times staring at her jugs).

While thinking about how disgusting her pack was, besides Quinn, Santana went to the middle sink and turned it on to what she thought was warm, while she shimmied out of her last remnants of clothing.

Then she heard a gasp.

Santana stopped playing with the sink and whipped her head around to find two very surprised blue eyes staring at her. Staring at her naked body.

"What the fuck!?" Santana yelled and dove for her discarded clothing to try to cover up something, anything! "What the hell are you doing in here?!"

The blonde with those damn blue eyes opened her mouth to say something but Santana spoke before the girl could, "Turn around first! Shit! You fucking pervert!"

The blonde, with two very bright red cheeks, did what Santana told her to do and spun around so quickly that she almost lost her footing.

"I, uh…" the blonde muttered. Santana was too steamed to feel anything other than anger at this girl who ruined her private moment.

"What?!" Santana commanded, she herself blushing terribly, something that she later realized she never did if anyone caught her naked.

"Mercedes…Mercedes told me to get you some clothing and a towel and soap…"

Santana noticed how scared yet shy the girl's voice was. That was the first thing she realized. The second was that Santana had actually gone into a shower without any means of new clothing, anything to get the dirt off, or anything to dry herself with. She could practically smack her brain out because of her stupidity.

The sigh that came from the Latina was audible enough for the blonde to hear, and in proof of that, Santana saw the blonde's shoulders ease.

"Who the hell is Mercedes?" Santana asked with as much calm as she could muster. Unless this girl was to say that Mercedes was an actual car who directed her to get stuff, Santana would probably stay that calm.

"Uhm… I guess that she was the one that first said how awkward it was that you came here," the girl said carefully. A nice small flashback reminded Santana of who that girl was, which just so happened to be the dark skinned girl. Who in their right mind would even name their kid Mercedes? But in a way it made sense because it was that specific girl.

Santana shrugged even though the blonde couldn't see.

"Alright. Er…leave the stuff by your feet and, uh, get out. Don't come back in here unless the place is broken into by zombies. Kay?" Santana still attempted some sort of kindness, which baffled the brunette.

A few seconds ticked by in which nothing else was said. Santana was about to think that the blonde didn't hear her until the girl spoke quietly, "My name is Brittany."

"Good for you. Now get out…please."

"Please" must've been the magical word because without any more sound, or another secret look from the blonde (Brittany, Santana had to remind herself since now she had a name to the face), the girl slowly walked out and even more carefully closed the door behind her.

Santana then ran to the door and locked it before anyone else tried to ruin her bath time.

"Should've done this in the first place…" Santana murmured.

The girl then turned around to try to resume the reason why she was here to begin with, but couldn't help to think of that girl. She was so weird, and probably was also seen as weird to everyone else. The other kids in this group didn't even bother to do send in the stuff themselves; they had to send that Brittany girl.

Santana shook her head. She was thinking too much. She always thought too much. She had to enjoy her nice bath that she had been waiting forever for, and then she can leave and be on her way and forget every single soul that was breathing down her neck.

Then she would go back on her mission to kill each and every damn zombie.


	4. Chapter 4: Take Me Out

**A/N: Sorry about the wait. I had writer's block. What can I say? Life bites. Pun intended. **

**Also, sorry for any mistakes because I still have no beta and am too lazy to reread it**.

**Enjoy:**

Santana's feet made lovely squishing sounds as she walked barefoot out of the bathroom. That blonde girl seemed to have recognized what clothing was, but absolutely forgot everything about shoes. And to make it worse, the girl picked the worst possible outfit for Santana to stride out in. A tank top that definitely clung to her stomach, shorts so short that they probably were made for toddlers, and strangely enough, the bra that was chosen hugged her boobs comfortably.

That only made Santana think that the Brittany girl was even more of a pervert.

The brunette tried to ignore the sloppy wet sounds from her feet and reentered the area where the crazy kids were located in, but when she got there, she only found Troutymouth, Quinn, Rachel, Finn, and of course, that Brittany girl. It didn't bother Santana that Puck was absent, well knowing that he was probably trying to hit on some of the other girls.

"I didn't think I was in there too long," Santana spoke just as she walked up to the small group. The Latina was still drying out her hair with a towel, incredibly grateful for the nice shower, even if she did look slightly like a slut.

Nobody really reacted to her words except for Troutymouth, obviously unaware that Santana did take a long time in any shower given to her. "Only about 30 minutes, if you count that as long."

Santana tried to ignore the stare that he was giving her, undoubtedly the type of stare that perverted males would send to attractive females. Apparently, even in a world where the population was probably less than one hundred, guys still didn't know what manners were.

Maybe the real apocalypse here was that everyone was a pervert.

"Okay, so I realize that I look pretty damn well for someone who hasn't had a shower in months. By the way, someone left a razor in there. I hope you don't mind that I used it."

That comment earned a nice roll of the eyes from Quinn but Santana shrugged it away. A smooth pair of legs was a need, especially since it's been a long while since she knew how legs even felt like.

"It's probably Tina's. Just…don't let her know that you used it and it'll all be okay," Troutymouth answered Santana's not questioned statement.

Santana's eyes wandered over to where Quinn was still sitting with Rachel, who was looking at her like she wanted to mouth off something that would rile the Latina up. The fact that she didn't made Santana question just what went on while she was taking her well needed bath.

"And Tina is…" Santana returned her eyes to Troutymouth.

The boy pointed his finger towards the small group behind her. Santana turned her head to find an Asian boy, girl, and that wheelchair kid huddled by a television set. Since Tina was a girl's name and the Asian girl was the only chick there, Santana figured that must be her.

"Got it. Don't tell the Asian that I used her stuff and I won't be ninja kicked in the ass."

Santana went to sit down next to Troutymouth since it seemed like Quinn and her new sidekick were still raw with her. It didn't seem like Troutymouth was going to complain, anyways. If anything, Santana probably woke up his hormones.

"You can go take a bath now, Quinn." Santana heard the midget tell her friend in a soft voice. She narrowed her eyes at the two. The connection between them seemed stronger than it usually would for two strangers who just met, and that wasn't something to ignore, especially the way Quinn normally made friends. Which she didn't.

After a small nod from Quinn, she got up and made her way to the bathroom. Santana couldn't help but watch after her in confusion. It was like she had a sixth sense and knew that something was going on when she herself was taking a bath.

Santana couldn't dwell on that thought for long before she felt someone poke her shoulder.

By instinct, Santana threw herself backwards away from the touch and ended up running into a few discarded objects haphazardly placed on the floor.

The crash made everyone in the building turn to look at her since the sound practically echoed all over the place.

"Shit! D-damn it!" Santana muttered under her breath. She never felt bad for cursing a lot. In fact, she read a long time ago that cursing when hurt actually helps numb the pain. It better numb the pain, especially since she collided with the pointiest lamp she had ever been in contact with.

"Are you okay?"

By that time, Santana didn't need to open her eyes to know who that voice belonged to, considering the fact that Troutymouth was the only person who really wanted to be nice to her here.

While holding onto her newly injured bicep, Santana seethed, "You are NOT supposed to sneak up on someone who's lived through an apocalypse!"

Someone farther away asked, "Apocalypse?"

Santana ignored that person as she continued, trying to mentally curse out the wound, "You better be thankful as hell that I didn't react like Quinn and shove a knife through your finger!"

When the Latina opened her eyes, she saw Troutymouth holding his hand at an awkward position while also wearing a look of concern on his face. It didn't take long for Santana to realize the culprit was him, and he better be holding that concern for himself if he knew better.

"I—" Troutymouth stuttered. "I didn't mean to. I-I mean I didn't know. I-uh-I'm sorry."

The boy stood there while stumbling over his words and Santana steamed that he didn't even bother to help her up. It didn't matter though because Finn knew how to deal with the situation and bounced to her aid.

Once standing, Santana found that her wound was nothing more than a shadow of pain and could easily ignore it, but she knew it would leave a nasty bruise. She may need to find something other than a tank top to wear for a while.

"God, Troutymouth," she sighed and shook her head at the ridiculousness that just happened. "Don't you know any better?"

Santana rolled her eyes and moved her shoulder to check the pain that remained. After three revolutions, she figured that she didn't need any medical help and returned back to the boy, who was looking at the Latina like she was crazy.

"What?" she asked.

"And now the true Santana comes out," Puck said quietly so as his small group of newbies heard but Santana didn't.

"Troutymouth? What's that supposed to mean?"

In a way, Santana would've figured that the boy meant the question in both a curious way and slightly annoyed way. But for some reason, she felt like she did something wrong by being so nonchalant about this. Even weirder, she found her eyes gravitating towards the striking blue ones of Brittany's who seemed to be absorbing this conversation like a soap opera.

Santana shook her head slightly and returned to the confused boy.

"Uh, yeah. Have you seen your lips? It's like you had plastic surgery to take the mouth of a guppy and morph it onto your face." She pointed to her lips as if to get the message across that he had a serious mouth problem.

Although she didn't mean it cruelly, the look on the kid's face was enough to pause anyone.

"I'm not Troutymouth. I'm Sam," the boy stated with a serious look.

"He's actually very self-conscious about his lips, Santana, so I recommend that you refrain from commenting on them," Rachel spoke up from her position. That earned a sideways glare from both Santana and Sam. It was one thing to defend someone from Santana's wrath, but it was something completely different to just jump into the conversation and make the Latina's prey embarrassed as well as calling out the girl herself. Santana had already disliked Rachel from the beginning, but now she's on her list, and no one wants to be on Santana's list.

"No one asked you," Santana snapped. "And I'm sorry that no one in this damn place actually introduced themselves. What, do you want me to call you by the clothes you're wearing or make up a nickname so I don't confuse the fucking lot of you?"

"Well, if you only asked—" Rachel tried before being interrupted.

"I don't have to ask! The only people I even know the names of before this shit happened was you, that blonde chick over there, Mercedes-the-car-named-black-girl, and then Tina the Asian that could possibly kick my ass. I can't read minds, nor would I want to with you perverts. So seriously, this is not my fault." Santana crossed her arms once she finished and rolled her eyes.

By that time, everyone in the room was peering in on the conversation that was happening. Santana didn't care that she was now the center of attention for good or for bad reasons, but if this group didn't want to die by her experienced hands, then they better learn how to gain social skills and quickly.

It was quiet for a few seconds while everyone took in and processed Santana's rant. The girl figured that the group was either scared or clueless to really do anything so they just sat there, until Finn spoke up.

"I think I have an idea," he spoke softly as if a loud noise would cause Santana to pounce.

"That's a first," the Latina muttered.

Finn ignored her and stood up so everyone could see his ginormous body.

"Okay, everyone, gather around in a circle."

_._._._

By the time the whole group made what was supposed to be a circle but ended up being some wiggly oval, Santana's hair had dried, which meant that it took a long time because the girl's long, raven hair did not take a short time to fully dry. Santana ended up sitting next to Troutymouth-uh-Sam, who still sat next to the Latina even after being embarrassed by her, and the flamey kid with the nice hair.

The whole ordeal made Santana want to fall asleep and have someone wake her up when Finn realized that he was no good of a leader and should give that job to either her or Quinn. But unfortunately, Finn actually got his act together and everyone was in that weird oval formation except for Quinn, who took extensive showers just like Santana.

It didn't take long after everyone settled for the blonde to come out of her small sanctuary, and Santana noticed rather quickly. The Latina tried to use mental telepathy to tell Quinn to saunter her way over to her (because she was probably the only other sane person here), but for some reason that Santana couldn't ponder, the blonde took her wet body over to a spot near that Rachel bitch.

The action itself riled Santana. It hadn't even been three hours yet Quinn seemed to have already changed best friends. What had really happened when Santana took her bath? Did Quinn completely forget that her only real friend in this hell of a planet exists?

"Alright," Finn interrupted her thoughts with his not manly enough voice. "Now that everyone is here and settled and not pissed off," the comment was obviously for her. "I think that we should take this time to get to know each other better."

"Why should we?" Santana spoke up like normal. When she had a thought, it must be said out loud for all to hear. "I mean, we aren't going to be staying here long so there's no point to be all buddy-buddy with these people."

"Actually, Santana, I think that it wouldn't be bad to stay here for a week, if we're allowed, that is." Quinn's voice was weird to hear after having to deal with these supermarket kids. And even then, Quinn said that while facing Rachel, as if asking her permission that they could stay. Santana looked towards the midget to see her nod her head slightly. It didn't seem that Rachel was even a leader of this group, what with her being so short and annoying. But that small interaction made Santana sure that something was up, and they may be discreet towards everyone else, but nothing went passed Santana Lopez.

"Well, fucking yay. Who died and made you alpha, Q?" The Latina made sure to ooze her anger into her words.

"I'm only saying because this place seems pretty certain. Food, water, and a nice barricade to keep the zombies out. It's like a vacation from running around the country."

"I agree," Puck added from his spot diagonal from Santana. "I love driving my truck and running over zombies as much as the next guy, but the Puckerman needs his relaxation time."

Santana grunted at all this madness, but kept her mouth shut. It wasn't like she was going to be able to get out of this situation soon.

"So…" Finn attempted his leadership skills again. "Since we're all in a circle, I was hoping that we could do one of those bonding things where we each get a turn to say our names and also a bit about ourselves. Anything, I guess. Like, how you ended up here, or favorite song, or something that really tells us about yourself."

Finn clasped his hands together with hope in his eyes that things wouldn't screw up. Santana could tell that most people in the oval were a bit nervous about one another, and with good reason.

When nobody volunteered, Finn spoke once more, "I guess I'll go first."

Finn made an unnecessary cough before beginning. "Hi, my name is Finn Hudson,"

"You sound like you're at an AA meeting," Santana huffed.

Once again, Finn ignored her and continued, "and I used to play as a quarterback for my football team before having to run away with that guy over there because a teacher got bit and decided to attack the whole school." Finn pointed at Puck to say that the "guy" was him. Puck smirked and nodded his mohawed head.

"A teacher tried to attack your whole school?" Sam asked from his position to Santana's left. His whole body was leaning towards Finn like he was engrossed with the giant's short-lived tale.

"Uh, nobody really knew what was going on back then on Day 0. All we knew was that our math teacher was acting really weird. I was in her class and she started complaining about some psycho biting her wrist and from then on everything went sour."

"Yeah," Puck joined in. "It was later in the day that people were really talking about ol' Ms. Reilly. She started gaining like, a terrible fever and not even two periods before the day ended, shit went crazy."

The story went back to Finn, his eyes looking straight but no seeing the present day. "The emergency broadcast didn't start until noon. It was saying for the school to be in a lockdown, but by then it was too late. The reason was that a virus epidemic was occurring all over the place and that businesses and schools needed to be isolated to try and stop the infection. Apparently it was spread by physical contact."

Santana had already heard this story a bunch of times so she didn't try to listen to it all that well. Instead, she focused on the fact that everyone else, even Puck and Quinn, were so absorbed in this. They just needed a bonfire to keep the atmosphere up.

Then Santana's eyes wandered over to Brittany. She seemed the most interested with her eyes and ears clinging on to Finn's every word. Something told Santana that this girl was easily amused. Or maybe too imaginative. Either or.

"What happened next?" Rachel weirdly said quietly in her spot next to Finn. For someone who obviously loves control, she seemed tied down in her place.

"No one realized that Ms. Reilly was infected until her 5th period class erupted into chaos. The kids who were there and survived it said that one second she had her head on her desk and looked like she passed out, and the next she jumped up and started chasing after kids. As soon as she got her hands on one, she tried to rip his skin off with her teeth, hoping to enjoy the tasty meal of flesh."

Santana wasn't sure when this get-to-know gig turned into scary story time, but now she was getting interested in Finn's story telling method.

"Many kids were able to escape after being bitten, but it didn't take too long for them to turn. For some reason, it seems like kids turn faster than adults. So one by one, Ms. Reilly evolved her 5th period math class into her own pack of zombies. They started terrorizing the school while it was under lockdown so they trapped the unknowing teens and teachers to their doom. By the time Puck and I heard about it, we had already collected our stuff and left, making sure to get as much food as possible."

"And money," Puck added. "I made sure to get as much dough as possible while everyone was running around like hell."

The original pack all rolled their eyes at Puck's normal behavior but didn't comment on it.

"We didn't leave right after though, we stayed to see about survivors. Mainly, our folks."

Santana didn't hear about this part of the story. No one in the group ever talked about their parents, and no one else tried to budge the information about them. It seemed like poisonous territory to try to enter. Family was something that they didn't have anymore, so they shouldn't dwell on it.

Santana found her eyes drifting towards the blue eyed blonde who started looking scared. It was weird because they were safe and probably survived a lot of shit. No one in this room should be scared of a story.

"It turned out that the majority of our high school turned within a few hours. Since everything was locked up, the exits weren't available, and only a selected few made it out. Eventually the zombies broke down the doors, but Puck and I didn't try to search for anyone still alive. When we went back home, we saw that the emergency broadcast was well…"

"Shit," Puck inserted. "Our school apparently got the information a tad too late and the city was already infected by the infection. It reached our parents quickly at their work because no one realized what was going on. The government was slow as fuck in their warnings so…"

No one needed to prod Puck to finish his thought. Even the kids that didn't know Puck knew that he was tough and when a soft spot did appear, they should let him be. He was almost as bad as Santana when it came to feelings, but that was because Santana always felt so much more, thanks to being of the female gender.

It took another few seconds of quiet thought before someone else said a word.

"Where was this?" Rachel asked. Of course it would be Rachel who seemed to fawn over Finn like he was Prince Charming.

"Chicago," Finn answered. "I know it's rough living in a city like that, but it certainly did help with materials."

The idea of guns brought Puck out of his small emotional state.

"Oh hell yeah!" Puck perked up with a smile and excitement written all over his face. "Man, you should've seen the loot we were able to get out of that city. Shit. All of these people with the best quality guns and they don't even lock them up! It was a fucking field day!"

"How many guns did you get?" It was the gangly male Asian that asked. That seemed to catch Santana's attention because she couldn't recall hearing his voice often. She figured that he was one of those quiet types that jump into action when necessary. You never know.

"Like, two fucking bags full. I would've gotten more but Finn wanted 'food' and 'life supplies'." Puck used air quotes to make his point but that only caused Finn to laugh.

"Yeah well, if it wasn't for my stupid life supplies, we wouldn't have made it a month."

Both Puck and Finn laughed like brothers while everyone else was just glad that things were less tense.

"Alright so enough about our story. Let's go clockwise. You're up next, Rachel." Finn nodded his head to give permission to the mouthy monster. Santana wanted to cover her ears and shield her eyes but she knew that if she did, it wouldn't be for the better.

Rachel straightened in her seat and took a big breath. Santana noticed that Quinn and Finn seemed inclined to hear what Rachel had to say.

"Kay, so, my name is Rachel Berry. Before all of this happened, I aspired to be the next Barbara Streisand. I have been practicing my singing ever since I could remember and can hit notes that are normally impossible for a human. I guess you can say that I am the captain of our group, well, since I was voted for it anyways."

"Okay, okay, back up a second." Thankfully for Santana, Mercedes cut into Rachel's glorious explanation of her life story. "Who said that you were the leader of us? Huh? I could very much be the leader."

"Or this could be a democratic union," the flamboyant bot muttered next to Santana. In a way, Santana could understand this boy and since he hadn't annoyed her yet, he showed promise. Maybe there was another kid in this group that Santana could learn to enjoy.

"Are we really doing this again…?" Tina asked to no one in general.

Before it was just the main pack that was goofing off and commenting on each other's actions, but now Santana was able to see who did what in this other weird group. It was very amusing, and now Santana knew what Brittany felt like when listening to Finn. The interactions within a different group were strange but not unwelcome, so long as it didn't cross territory.

The rest of them went on for a couple of minutes trying to figure out if their group even had a leader, and while that was occurring, Santana noticed that Brittany didn't jump in not even once. In fact, she had this goofy smile on her face like she wanted to say something funny about the whole thing. Her eyes kept jumping from Rachel to some other kid back to Rachel (because she was the one that kept on blabbering) and it all just made her smile.

It's like she had no worries in the world.

"Well, Mr. Shue would be the leader but he's not here right now. So by default, it should be me!" Rachel demanded while pointing to herself and her eyes beaming at each of her members.

"Goddamnit, girl. If Mr. Shue was here right now, he'd put you in your place," Mercedes shot back.

"Who's Mr. Schue?" Quinn asked as soon as she saw a shot to comment.

It was Quinn's voice that actually caused Rachel to calm her tits. _Thank God_, Santana thought.

"Mr. Schuester is a teacher at our high school along with being the mentor for our glee club," Rachel answered.

"Wait," Santana interrupted once the words entered her head. "You, this group, is actually a glee club? Like, a singing and dancing club?"

Rachel nodded her head.

"Are you fucking kidding me? Those lame choir clubs? That's what you are?"

The questions were meant to be rhetoric, but Sam replied to them regardless, probably without knowing that they weren't meant to be answered.

"Yes, we're a show choir club. We were on our way to a gig when we had to detour here; to this supermarket. Mr. Schue said that he was going out to look for some help, but he never came back."

Sam's voice actually was solemn, and his once spunky attitude had been replaced with melancholy. Santana didn't even think that this boy had an ounce of sadness in him.

"How long ago was this?" Quinn asked carefully. Santana noticed that the rest of the glee kids, even Brittany who was before smiling like she knew an inside joke, were sad when hearing about their teacher.

"We really haven't been counting," Rachel spoke. "But it has been a few months from what we can tell."

It surprised Santana that Rachel could actually show care for someone other than herself. That didn't mean that the midget was off her list, but maybe Santana could work with her.

"There used to be more of us," Tina continued. "But they were taken out before we even got here. We're not sure how. They just left the bus and never returned. It was only four of us, and they went out as pairs. For all we know, they could still be alive."

"Or dead," Wheelchair boy added.

"No need to be negative, Artie," Rachel scolded the boy. That was a new name to chalk down. Even if Santana didn't want to bother to remember it.

"How about we continue the circle thing," Finn's voice reentered the conversation. Santana could tell that this little group had gotten to a bad area, so she did think that Finn actually used some of his brain power to figure that this topic was bad to stay in.

Everyone agreed and the circle went right to Quinn, who only stated that she had been a cheerleader, along with Santana. After that was Tina Cohen-Chang, and then Mike Chang (who had both said that they're not related, and Santana surely hoped that they weren't because they held on to each other like mated penguins). After that was the flamboyant kid named Kurt Hummel. He did openly say he was gay, and Santana had to give him props since she would never do that if she was in his situation. He did shortly discuss being bullied in high school and that the glee club was his sanctuary.

Then it got to Santana.

"Well, if you didn't know by now, I'm Santana Lopez, Queen Bitch of this place and our group. I wouldn't be actually going along with any of Finnocense's plans, but it's not like I have a choice."

She took a second to look around at all the faces staring at her, except this time it wasn't in anger or fear.

For some reason, her eyes gravitated towards Brittany again. Maybe it was because she was the only person in this room that saw Santana naked, or maybe because her eyes were too blue, but Santana found those too blue eyes again and they were staring in wonderment. Santana still had no idea what could be so wonderful about her.

Santana continued, "Quinn had already mentioned that we were both on the same cheerleading squad, and I'd rather not get into how we got together with the two lugheads that you know as our 'friends', or what could pass as friends. I mean, one of them is the horniest shark I've ever met, and the other rarely remembers which is his left and right hand."

Puck and Finn looked like they wanted to interject (Finn was more angry than Puck since Puck knew that he was a sex shark), but Santana didn't let them.

"I guess you can say that if I have an opinion about you, I will full out say it. None of ya'll really intimidate me whatsoever, so I couldn't give less than a damn about you. I freely curse, can kick ass, and as you could tell, my aim is right on. Mess with me and you'll probably end up dead."

Santana said the last part matter-of-factly with a shrug. It was the clear truth that anyone could see, and it looked like some people wanted to interject, but didn't have the guts to.

"Next is you, Sammy boy," Santana stated and waved her hand at him to start.

Sam Evans was that boys name, and he didn't last long. Then was Artie Abrams, the wheelchair kid who was really a wannabe gangster. Next was Puck, then Mercedes Jones a.k.a. Aretha, and then it came down to Brittany. Santana believes that this was the only person that she actually wanted to pay attention to because of her lack of dialogue.

"Um, my name is Brittany S. Pierce," she started.

"S?" Puck questioned, fully interrupting her. That earned a glare from Santana, but she didn't tell him off. Not yet anyways.

"Yeah, my middle name is Susan, so I go by Brittany S. Pierce," the blonde nodded her head. "Uhm, I also used to be a cheerleader. I like to dance. I'm not really smart because I know that I'm not the brightest crayon in the box. That's yellow, and my skin isn't yellow. It's more like a peachy color, but in the summer time it's like a chestnut color."

"Get on with it, Brittany," Artie prodded.

"Oh, right. I'm also 'the official food tester' of this group, and well proud!" Brittany smiled fully showing more of her teeth.

"What do you mean by official food tester?" Santana asked. The thought seemed a bit off to her, especially in a situation like this.

When Santana asked that question, Brittany turned to her with an even bigger smile than before.

"I get to test the food in this place and if I don't get sick, then everyone else can eat it."

The pack looked at each other warily after that statement. Never did they decide that one person tried some food and then give it to the rest if they didn't die. That was just inhumane.

Santana looked at the others in the glee group to try to figure out their thoughts of this. Some looked uneasy, but Rachel, of course, added her two cents.

"It's not exactly as she says. At the beginning, we ate all of the stuff that went within a few days and froze the rest. She just likes to eat because she has a fast metabolism so she tries out some of the food that we're uncertain of since a lot of the expiration dates have expired. But many foods survive afterwards. It's just how we know that the food is safe, is all."

The glee group just sat there twiddling their fingers while Puck, Quinn and Finn sent each other secret looks.

It was only Santana that really spoke up after Rachel said her thoughts.

"So," Santana's voice caught everyone's attention. "You have this one girl eat expired food to see if it is safe to eat or not?"

It was obvious that Santana was unhappy, which she made certain was clear for the rest of the group. The Latina didn't even look at anyone's eyes because it was practically everyone else's fault.

"Uh." Santana turned to look at who spoke and recognized that it was Brittany. "It's not like I'm not used to throwing up. I used to go to a lot of parties and drink a lot and that upsets my tummy so I have to throw up in the toilet or the bathtub or in a garbage bucket. I'm practically ammune to it."

"_Immune_, Brittany, _immune_," Rachel corrected.

"You shut your trap, Berry," Santana snapped. Her attention then turned to Brittany. "You are not _immune_ to throwing up. They're forcing you to throw up crap that shouldn't even be tested in the first place! You don't deserve this kind of treatment."

If Santana wasn't busy making a point, she would've noticed the other three pack members staring at her with different thoughts.

"We were only-" Rachel attempted.

"Nuh-uh. You weren't doing anything helpful in this, bitch. _Usted estaba siendo un idiota a esta pobre chica._ And so long as I'm here, she won't try any expired food. You got that clear? Or do you want me to go all Lima Heights on your ass?"

Santana looked at each and every one of the glee kids. None of them spoke out so she figured that her message got across to them.

"_Idiotas locos_," she muttered and stood up to walk away from them. "I'm going outside regardless of what any of you assholes say. Don't worry; I'll block the freaking hole so no one will come in to eat your brains."

Santana kept going without stopping to see if anyone was following her or even if they heard her. Perhaps they realized that she needed to cool down, and what better way to cool down than to shoot a few zombie heads off?

Maybe she'll even accidentally be too close to one.

_Maybe_, Santana thought to herself, with no sense of regret in her body.


	5. Chapter 5: Closer to the Edge

**A/N: Dear Anon, I wish that you used an account so I could privately message you this, but I really enjoyed your comment, and I fully understand how it feels about reviewing other people's work and being shy about it. Your words inspired me and I really want to continue this story, so if I'm not continuing because of the readers/reviewers, I'll continue it for myself. Plus, someone has to keep the Brittana ship going since Glee isn't doing so well about that. But thank you anyways for your review. **

**Also, I still have no Beta and am sooo lazy about rereading.**

After approximately a year of no pollution or silly humans interrupting the natural processes of life, the sky seemed to show off full HD of its stars. Each one could be easily seen right down at the surface of the earth without the problems of too much light or too much pollution. That was probably one of the only good things that came after Day 0. It used to bring such peace to people, and when those people stopped looking up and enjoying the view, the peace stopped as well.

Santana was one of those people that used to always be running somewhere. There was always somewhere to be or something to do (or not to do) that there wasn't any time to wait until nightfall and gaze upon the stars that could contain anything. Ever since human civilization was no longer a problem, the sky was wide open to the girl while her thoughts enjoyed the calm that came with the night sky.

On the road, someone had to be on shift as the others slept, so it was at those times that Santana visualized the capability of the nighttime sky. She, Finn and Puck were usually on patrol, and although the boys never appreciated it, Santana felt some sort of connecting with the serenity of the place. Quinn was normally not one of the guards because her love of slumber outweighed everything. It made Santana chuckle to think about the first time they ever tried to make Quinn keep watch.

While staring at the sky near the hole that was the entrance to the supermarket, Santana pondered the memory of her friend and the rare viciousness that erupted from her when Puck and Finn tried to make her stay up when she could be easily sleeping.

_"Come on, Quinn. San, Finn and me have taken turns like, 15 times already. And you haven't even taken one!"_ Puck's whining voice always turned on real high when things didn't go his way for a while. He could deal with certain problems a few times, but at some point the boy would break.

_"You can't make me stay up if I end up falling asleep anyways,"_ Quinn responded with a confident voice. She was always confident in what she did, and that was something that Santana actually relied on. While Santana may worry or be skeptical about some things, Quinn was always the one that knew what to do. _"What do you care about more? Forcing me to keep watch or making sure that you're not eaten?"_

As always, no one could really make Quinn do anything, and every time someone other than Santana thought about pressuring Quinn to give up her sleep time, she would always get away with not doing it.

"That's our normal…" Santana said to herself while still stargazing.

The sky was something that never changed, no matter the problem. It's still there, until the Earth isn't.

It was something to depend on.

_._._

Santana stayed outside to ponder for ten more minutes, or what seemed like ten minutes to her. As soon as she had found her exit moments ago, her body immediately relaxed and sat on the dirty ground with her maybe new and clean clothes.

It took her those ten minutes to realize she wasn't even wearing shoes.

"Whoops," the girl muttered and finally broke eye contact with the stars to stare down at her dust covered feet. She shrugged the mistake away. It wouldn't be the first time that she had to wander around barefoot and sleep with filthy feet.

It was that realization, though, that made her aware of something else.

Where Santana was seated was not far away from the zombie that she had shot a few hours ago. In fact, its (he, she, whatever. It was no longer human so why identify the gender) body was still in the same position as before. No new flies wandered around it looking for some dead skin to munch on.

"Do flies even still exist?" she questioned to herself. "Or did they just turn into zombiefied flies. Zombiflies?"

Looking back to the bathroom incident, Santana didn't really feel bad for having a conversation with herself. Being in a pack with three other people for a long time makes for awkward moments, and no one could have an awkward moment with themselves.

Santana turned back to the dead zombie. It really was a sight that made eyes sore. The person must've turned months ago because the skin was barely hanging on to the bone, and it wasn't all there either. In the light of the stars, it was shown as a dark green, probably being African American when it was human, but the sickness that was the zombie virus made the skin change to a different pigment. A few fingers were missing. The nose was actually there this time, a bit deformed, but there none the less.

No one in their right mind would feel bad for this pitiful creature. It was a monster. It harmed others without feeling any sense of remorse. All it cared about was itself, and that was it. It didn't even care about the other creatures that Santana supposed could be considered its own species. It deserved to be alone in this forgotten town to die by the hands of Santana.

Santana…who had the same characteristics as this monster.

The Latina took a sharp intake of breath at the recognition.

She basically described her own way of life.

"No," Santana whispered. She shook her head to stop the thoughts that were already being made. She was no monster. She was trying to help the good of the planet from the problem that's causing it and everything to die.

"No…" She was no monster.

"I'm not…" She wasn't a brain-dead being who attacked everything that she could get her hands on.

"I…"

"…"

In defeat, Santana put her head in her hands.

"I am a monster," the girl whimpered as the first of few tears escaped down her face.

Santana didn't remember the last time she cried. She couldn't recall the memory of a teardrop making its delicate way down her cheek. The knowledge that that actually happened to people appalled the girl. And yet, there she was, sitting in the dirt all alone crying in the dark. Not even the stars could make her feel calm.

Santana's whole existence after Day 0 was to rid the world of the zombies, to be better than them in all ways and ensure her safety while ensuring their permanent deaths. She made a promise to herself that she wouldn't let this new life mess with her emotions, and she wouldn't let anything take her away from her goal.

Tears were a foreign idea to Santana, but as soon as one escaped from her tear duct, the memories flooded back.

Memories that she longed to forget, but never full could.

"_come on…what…could happen?_"

It if memory served right, that was the voice of Noah Puckerman.

Santana lifted her head immediately at the sound of Puck's voice, which was actually heard through static. The thought of tears quickly vanished from both her face and mind as she stood up to investigate the sound.

"_it…not my…fault. It…_"

Santana closed her eyes and focused on her earing to try to pinpoint the area of the noise. It wasn't too far from her, so she started moving closer to the sound while also keeping her other ear open for any attacks.

Slowly, she made her way back to her car, which wasn't parked too far from the entrance of the store. At first, Santana was confused about the noise, but after peering into the darkened window, she found the source of it.

"_So…stupid._"

The girl figured that Puck could've been talking about her because right there in the driver's seat was the forgotten twin pair of walkie talkies.

The Latina sighed at her stupidity and opened the door to reach the dropped device. Thankfully they didn't need it, but it was always good to have it on hand, just in case they did separate.

And both Quinn and Santana forgot about it.

If it was Finn and Puck, that would be reasonable. They were the two idiots that didn't even know how to work an oven. Quinn and Santana were basically the brains of the group, and the fact that they left out a normal routine in their daily lives meant something was up. They were slacking. And slacking was never good in an apocalypse.

Santana made a mental note to make sure that her brain was sharp at all moments.

"_Seriously…not mine…Santana…calm…tits…_"

The girl scrunched up her eyebrows at the words coming in. If it wasn't enough that her name was mentioned, the fact that tits were involved was enough to want to know what was going on.

Santana expertly manipulated the radio in her hands so that the signal was better and the words were coming in clearer. She had to know what was going on for she was a gossiper, and she used to be the best one at that.

"_That's just how Santana is._" It was still Puck's voice coming in, meaning that he had the other radio with him. "_I'm pretty sure that she does this for attention, but if she does feel strong about something, she will back it up._"

"Doing this for attention?..." Santana muttered to herself, anger starting to grow to fully replace that one moment of tears. "Whose fucking attention would I even want?"

"_Try not to let it get to you. We don't need to make a big scene about Santana._" This time it was Quinn's voice but she sounded far away, whereas Puck sounded close.

"Puck must have the radio, but the others aren't anywhere near it, otherwise Quinn wouldn't sound like she's on the opposite side of the room…" Santana pondered aloud. "That would mean that the radio must be in Puck's pants or something. On the ground or where he normally puts it…"

A light bulb went off in Santana's head.

"His butt pocket. Puck… buttradio'd me?"

The times must've rearranged themselves to match the situation. Santana never figured that she'd ever have to endure something like a buttdial again, but it seems that even though an outbreak of zombies existed, first world problems still occurred.

"That fucking dumbass." Santana facepalmed herself at the fact that Puck was stupid enough to have this happen, but then she thought for a second. Only a few times was she ever really able to hear what her group said behind her back. There were so few times that she was in their proximity and hidden, but now was the perfect time to really know what they thought of her. It'd make Santana eager to intervene if they did something out of line, but she'd hold it in to really know what was on the mind of her pack.

She just loves good gossip.

"_This is really how she acts? She's tough and mean and says exactly what is on her mind, regardless of if the person is in the room?_" That was obviously Rachel, with her snarky voice still annoying over the radio.

"Hell yeah," Santana answered Rachel's question even though the midget wouldn't hear her. "There's no reason to hold things in anymore. Why be offended when you could be eaten instead? There's so much worse to worry about."

"_That's always been how she is. Even in high school before all of this happened. Santana was just cold and mean. Yes, she did have a soft side that was barely shown, but she just didn't allow anyone in. She barely allowed me in sometimes…_" Quinn seemed saddened at the thought, and Santana actually wondered for a second if there was anything behind those words, or if she really was only sad that Santana held her walls up even for her best friend.

"_But she is a great shot,_" Finn added. "_Can kill multiple zombies with one hit. Even was able to kill three in a row with one bullet._"

"_Yeah, that was a sight I totally wish I got on camera._" Santana could hear Puck chuckle through the radio and the girl set aside a small moment to actually feel proud about her abilities. But when Finn mentioned zombies, that got the Latina thinking. The zombie before should've made her remember the lack of zombies in the area, but now that Santana was actually outside where she should be barraged by the undead, she questioned the absence of the flesh eaters.

Where were they? And why weren't they here? This town was supposed to be Zombieville, USA yet they've only run into one and from the looks of it, that one hadn't eaten in a great length of time.

It was a mystery that Santana wasn't sure that she wanted to have answered.

"_Don't mention zombies, Finn!_"

That perked Santana's ears up.

"_Why not? Rachel, you were almost attacked by one, and we've mentioned them before,_" Finn answered back to the midget.

"_Because..._" There was a short pause and Santana could faintly hear the sound of a body scuffling across the ground. "_Brittany doesn't really know that we're in a zombie apocalypse, and I'd rather her not find out."_

Santana gave the radio a dumbfounded look.

"_What?" _Finn asked incredulously. And with good reason. How can a girl, who had been traveling with her glee group, lose a few of her kids and end up in an abandoned town's supermarket not know the cause of it all? Sure, the girl seemed really ditzy at first glance, but she couldn't have been _that_ ignorant.

And better question: if the group knew that Brittany wasn't aware of the zombies, why the fucking hell did they not want to tell her about it?

She could be attacked by one of them without even knowing what hit her.

Rachel continued to explain, "_Brittany…doesn't really take information that well. As you can see, she's not all here. I'm not even sure how much of her _is_ here, either. Anyways, we'd rather not have her freak out or become really curious and end up in a trap. Plus, this is better. You must know the saying, 'Ignorance is bliss'._"

"Not if that _bliss_ came up behind her and chomped her head off," Santana muttered while gripping the radio tightly. In a way, Santana felt so angry at the fact that this group of teenagers was being so immature in their actions. Surely, surviving a tiny bit of hell had made them more like adults.

But then Santana also felt something else, something she couldn't really put her finger on. Why did Santana, a girl who was the most misanthropic person that she knew, even give a slight damn about a girl that she had just met? Obviously this blonde chick was just another mouth to feed and another butt to save. Santana shouldn't be feeling any sort of, dare she think it, care about another human being, let alone Brittany.

But why did she? The girl hadn't done anything for her except peeve on her in the shower.

It caused the brunette to get frustrated at the lack of logic.

"It's probably because she's the weakest link," Santana tried to persuade herself. "The underdog. Most likely to be eaten first. She should at least have a warning. Everyone should."

And those words in itself were the truth. If the world was about to end, wouldn't you want to know about it? Wouldn't you want to be aware of the imminent death that was approaching so that you could prepare for it?

Everyone deserves that chance, and Santana was someone who knew full blown how much that piece of information is worth.

It's worth a life.

Santana turned off the power to the radio. She no longer wanted to hear about how her group and the new group were slowly becoming involved with one another. She especially didn't want to hear the flaws in this new group's lifestyle. Call her OCD, but she believes that everything needs to be perfectly planned, perfectly thought of, and perfectly secure. If they weren't, then they needed to be, or else it'd just frustrate the Latina even more.

"I gotta blow off some steam."

_._._

Santana figured that no one would miss the Hummer, especially since no one even came out to see if she was alright. So why would they miss the Hummer?

It'd been a long while since Santana had driven without another human being in the car. Finn had always nagged how "unsafe" it was and "potentially life threatening" the very idea had been. Especially in the dark. Santana supposed he never took into thought that their lives were always potentially life threatening with every step that they take.

Of course, at the time and age that was the present, there weren't any potentially life threatening zombies to make situations unsafe, and Santana thought what better time than outcast time to figure out where they were.

The roads were bumpy enough with fallen debris, and were a great obstacle course since everyone before seemed to just ditch their vehicles and make a run for it.

Santana tried to imagine what exactly happened where she was driving. Was there a small outbreak that started out as someone everyone would least suspect was the one that was infected? Or did they already know about it and were aware that someone in the town went ape shit? Either way, this place was supposed to have been very important in the spreading of the virus. Santana didn't know why this town, since it was about 1000 miles from the place of origin.

The girl shook her head. She shouldn't be thinking about that.

The Latina moved her finger to press on the power for the CD player in the car. The pack had raided enough stores to find enough music to pass the time, and it was moments like these where Santana was extremely grateful for the distraction.

The song of the present was a slow one, a calming one, one that reminded her of a past filled with something better than before.

She couldn't help but sing; something she rarely did nowadays.

"_May angels lead you in. Hear you me my friends. On sleepless roads the sleepless go. May angels lead you in_."

Santana actually used to love to sing. She had aspired one day to make something out of her talent, yet the people at her school, and even her parents, didn't know that she enjoyed such a hobby. Singers, unless they were famous, were dead ends. But it was something that Santana could always fall back on. This song in particular was one that was so different from the music back before Day 0. It may have been a bit on the old side, but it was perfect in rhythm.

The smooth melody actually created such a serene atmosphere that Santana almost missed the first zombie that she had come across in 30 minutes.

Immediately, the Latina hit the brakes.

The car stopped quickly and caused Santana to be pushed forward, but not like before where Quinn hurt her precious boobs. Without wasting any time, the girl leaned over to the glove box and took out the flashlight that was always in there. She opened the door and jumped out, carrying her pistol with her.

It was then that she remembered that she wasn't wearing any shoes.

"Ah, fuck! Damnit! Forgot the fucking shoes!" Santana spoke but not too loudly as she stepped onto some sort of garbage, not really wanting to know what it specifically was. Frustration built into her and she kicked whatever it was that she had stepped on and prayed that it wasn't anything too nasty. She once stepped full fledge into a zombie's dissolving pancreas and figured that it couldn't have been any worse from there.

Santana breathed out angrily. She did not want to go back to that supermarket and have everyone say that this was a stupid idea, if they ever figured out that she was gone in the first place. She came here for a reason, not because she let her anger control her.

Surveying the field, Santana spotted the zombie that she had noticed before. It wasn't too far away, about a few feet, and it seemed to have not noticed her yet.

"Maybe it's deaf," Santana muttered, thinking about how it didn't respond to her voice or the car. Regardless, it marked one zombie about 20 miles from the supermarket. That was practically out of town, which disturbed the brunette.

Looking even farther ahead, Santana was able to spot a few more roamers on the terrain, all of them walking slow-like, as if they had no idea where to go and just decided to roll with it. If Santana's memory was accurate, this was about the area that the amount of zombies had started to decline. For whatever reason, the zombies did not want to go near town.

The Latina figured that the zombies weren't going to attack her, and it'd be stupid to attack them at night with no backup, she decided to travel around town and see if there was some sort of radius around the deserted place that the zombies seemed to not want to roam. She allowed the song that was playing earlier to repeat on her 15 minute track circling the town, and found that there really was about a circle wrapped around the place like a shield, but one that didn't get rid of all of the zombies.

The only problem with this discovery was that she didn't know why. But seeing as there weren't any remains of anything, zombie or human, she considered this town a safe bet for a while and turned around to head back to the supermarket.

It was going to nag at her, especially since she risked her feet getting dirty, but she had been out for an hour and a half and it was well into night time.

_._._

By the time the Latina reached the supermarket, the moon was as bright as the sun as it stared down at her figure. Santana parked the car and brought along with her the radio and her pistol. As she neared the hole, she recognized the common smell of decaying zombie and decided to do one nice thing for the day by moving it somewhere the stink can't reach. She knows quite well that smell, and no matter how often one gets exposed to it, you never get used to it.

Getting into the hole was easier the second time around since she knew where she was going this time. No traumatizing experiences to make her unaware of real life. The difference was that once she opened the door to the supermarket, the room was much darker than it was before.

"Must be bedtime," Santana whispered to herself, then thought better of it and should've kept quiet in general.

The Latina sneaked across the floors as quietly as she could, grateful for the lack of shoes because making tracks on the floor were better than making sound. Santana did not want to know how the new group reacted to someone coming home late and waking them up. She couldn't even remember the last time she did this to her own family all those months ago.

What she found was interesting enough by the time she reached the area that everyone was before.

There was a corner that the Latina hadn't noticed before that was covered with mattresses and sheets. It made sense since this store had like, everything a person could probably need in life; mattresses included. In the mattresses were each one of the kids from the new group, and in between them were a few sleeping bags. Three of them had her own pack members in it, and the last sleeping bag that had no one was at the very edge of the group, as if no one wanted it by them but they didn't want to be inconsiderate.

Santana wasn't stupid; she knew that no one gave a damn about her. It was proven when no one followed her outside. She was just thought about because of everyone else. It wasn't like they could kick her out.

The thought alone caused sour feelings to grow in the pit of Santana's stomach. How could all of them be so careless, especially her own friends? If she could even call them friends.

Santana wanted to march right out of there and take the Hummer with all of its needed supplies out of there and never have to see these people again. She wanted to… but the day had cost her and she realized how weary she really was. Up before dawn and still going well after sunset, she needed to sleep on that outcasted sleeping bag.

Not even giving a slight damn about her dirty self, she crawled on top of the makeshift bed and quickly fell asleep.

_._._

_Santana was on the floor of the green room, unable to stand, unable to yell, unable to do anything. The overwhelming stench that always filled her unconsciousness continued to overrun her senses. She was slowly suffocating from the stench, and had no means of escaping._

_ The room where her entire soul wanted to be was close, yet too far. She had been running for what seems like forever. She knew that she had been here before, and Santana realized that she may always return here, helpless, and tortured with the knowledge that she must run but cannot._

_ It was only a matter of time until whatever bad aura she felt reached her and finally did its job. The bad aura that came with her mother's voice._

_ "Santana!" _

_ Santana would never forget her mother yelling for her, and as she did so in her dream, Santana did not want to respond._

_ "Santana!"_

_ A body hovered behind her and yelled out her name, reaching her to bring her to the finale she was supposed to be in ages ago._

_ "Santana!"_

"Santana!"

The Latina woke with a jolt that could've reawaken Frankenstein's monster. Her instincts went into gear and she quickly jumped onto her knees and had her pistol in her hand ready to shoot.

"Whoa, whoa! Calm down, girl!"

The voice was foreign, yet Santana knew that it wasn't new. Her eyes looked to find that Aretha chick, Mercedes, standing a ways away and staring at the brunette like Santana was about to jump a lion.

Santana started to calm down when she realized where she was, in the supermarket, nowhere near zombies.

And that was when her eyes focused on striking blue right in front of her.

"Brittany?" Santana couldn't help but mutter. It was just such a weird thing to wake up to, this girl with a smile that has no end just sitting in front of her sleeping bag with…breakfast?

"Wait, is that food?" Santana asked, pointing to a plate filled with stuff you'd find in boxes.

"Yeah, it's my favorite. Lucky Charms, but no milk, some trail mix, and a granola bar," the blonde responded with bright eyes and teeth to match.

"We thought you might be hungry," Mercedes continued for Brittany. "You were the last one sleeping and it's already passed noon."

"Noon?" There were no windows in the supermarket that led outside and no clock that Santana could see. Santana wasn't even sure when she fell asleep, or when she came back from her zombie escapade.

"We do have a clock that works," Mercedes answered while shrugging and proceeded to walk away to where Santana could see some of the others hanging around.

"If you want milk, I could always go check on the ones that we still have and see if they're good enough for you to try." Brittany's voice brought Santana's attention back to her.

"What?" It took a second for her words to really reach the brunette's brain. "Wait, no. Don't you dare go try something that might poison you. Don't you realize that it hurts you?"

Once again, Santana found herself caring for this girl who would willingly try sour milk and risk a terrible time with the toilet. Santana's motto had always been "if they're silly enough to do it, let them", so why wasn't she following that motto then?

"Well, I guess. But Rachel says that it's supposed to happen so it should be fine." The blonde shrugged but still had that smile on her face.

"You really shouldn't listen to that midget. Nothing good would come of it. I've only talked to her for about 15 minutes altogether and I can already tell that she only cares about her own ass and nobody else's."

Finally, Brittany's face made a different expression than smiling. Her eyes scrunched together and her lips frowned as if she was thinking really hard about something.

But then she started shaking her head, "Rachel does care about us. She tells all of us what to do and makes sure that if someone's fighting that they stop, because if I try to do that I end up getting hurt."

"Hurt?"

"Yeah, like, I'd accidentally get punched or something. But that only happened three times!"

Santana held her hand up to stop the girl from talking anymore. It was obvious that Brittany could talk for hours if she was allowed, but Santana did need answers.

"Is that food for me?" Santana asked when Brittany recognized the universal hand sign for 'stop'.

Instead of being upset that Santana stopped the blonde from talking, she smiled again.

"Oh! Yeah. I thought that you'd like some food since you slept in so late. I kinda wanted to say sorry for seeing you in the bathroom. Uh, _all_ of you. I didn't mean to, really. Mercedes just wanted me to hurry and I knew that you'd end up naked at some point because you didn't have any of the clothes and towels and I was hoping that you hadn't already-"

"I get it," Santana interrupted. She was right when thinking that this girl could go on and on. It took some hesitation because Santana wasn't used to it, but she forced herself to say, "…thank you."

Brittany nodded her head and set down the food, then stood back up and started to walk away. "You're welcome," she spoke back.

That was when Santana noticed how tall the blonde was. And athletic. That explains the dancer/cheerleader combo. But, those legs went on forever, just like her conversations could.

Santana shook her head and berated herself for staring. It was rude to stare, she should know. She hated when other people did it to her. But Brittany really was someone she never had met before. So vulnerable yet trusts everyone who tells her something she can believe, which may as well be anything.

Why was it that she didn't annoy Santana at all? Sure, she smiled a lot, but it didn't bother Santana as much as it normally would. Santana couldn't even imagine that girl without a smile. The world would break or something if that ever happened.

"It's like the one thing in this world that's certain," Santana said quietly while digging through her breakfast.

_._._

After Santana ate, she decided to confront the people that should've gone after her when she stormed out. Sure, Santana stormed out a few times, but there really wasn't anywhere for her to go so she would just come back to camp with a sour attitude for the rest of the day. It was time for them to get a taste of that sour attitude that was just waiting to come.

"Hey freaks and idiots," she greeted with a smile to the group that Mercedes and Brittany joined up with. It included those two, Quinn, Rachel, Finn, and Artie. Santana didn't let it slide how Rachel, Quinn and Finn seemed joined at the hip the last few times she's seen them. She could see some form of fast blossoming with Finn and Rachel since Finn seemed to gravitate towards her, but it didn't explain Quinn. Quinn used to pick on girls like midget-von-loudmouth. Why would she be hanging out with her more than with Santana? It didn't make any sense.

Santana's approach caused the conversation that was happening to be cut short and everyone looked at her; some with annoyed eyes and some with curious expressions.

"Oh, did I interrupt something? I hope that it doesn't bother anyone. You know, I can just leave and like, never come back," Santana said with a grin that was so fake only a true airhead would miss it.

"We knew you were going to come back with your head intact, Santana. No need to be moody about it," Quinn spoke without any toleration for Santana's behavior.

"Really, now? You're so sure? Do you even know what I did when I was out there? Do you even realize how long I was gone?" Santana's smile had quickly turned to a frown at the lack of care that Quinn showed. Quinn always cared where Santana had gone and always had patience for her. Santana said her thoughts out loud when she questioned, "What the fuck happened to you, Quinn?"

The others in the group knew to remain quiet at the sudden outburst.

"What do you mean?" Quinn asked, still angry but her eyes showed a slight worry at this new problem.

"You don't even care that I was gone, stole the jeep in a tank top and no shoes, and went out searching for zombies myself with only a flashlight for a light source and a walkie talkie that I purposely turned off?"

"Well, of course I care," Quinn started, making sure that she spoke slowly and calmly. "If any one of us were out there on our own, I'd bet money on you that you'd be the first one to return safely."

"And what if I fucked up, Q? What if I accidentally forgot my pistol when I went to look at something? Or my flashlight's batteries died right in the middle of a gang bang with zombies? What if, by mistake, I dropped something like a tin can and a whole fucking horde heard and rammed me, myself and I? Because that was all that I had in the first place."

Nobody else except for Quinn even knew what Santana had just said. If it was anyone else, they would've been treated Santana's rant differently, but she had to mention the story that haunted Quinn's mind every day, and Santana was well aware of it.

Quinn was left speechless, and Santana saw but ignored a tiny teardrop that slid down Quinn's rosy cheek.

"I don't think you care, Quinn," Santana continued and was less angry, but wasn't going to be the nice guy. "At least not like before. I'm not stupid. I can see what's going on here. You're becoming new bff's with Rachel. I can't even begin to understand why, but I recognize what being replaced is like. I just can't believe it happened so fast."

Quinn started shaking her head and more tears began to leave her tear ducts. Her hands where clenched and held at her chest, as if she's trying to hold in all of her emotions.

"You just don't understand," Quinn said through a choked throat filled with tears.

"No, I understand pretty well how you all think of me. I get pissed off easily, say everything I think, and don't give a damn who I hurt. And hell yeah, that's true, but maybe that's because if I do one bad thing, you all outcast me like I'm the devil herself. I'm fucking Satan."

By that time, the others had gathered around to see this fight that should've been private. Santana was too involved to hear Kurt mutter, "You know, that's not a bad nickname for her."

"Do you realize that we're not in 'High School of the Dead'? We shouldn't deal with petty problems like this bitch that can save my ass just mocked my Lisp, which by the way is a stupid word for that condition because it practically mocks the people who have it without my doing." Santana rolled her eyes yet continued. "I overheard you say that Brittany doesn't even know we're in a God damned zombie apocalypse!"

At those words, Rachel gasped, along with a few other members of the new group.

"Please, don't-" Rachel tried to stop Santana but it was no use.

"Nuh-uh Berry. It's one thing to lie about a zit in the middle of someone's forehead but it's another to completely skip out on the reason that you're all stuck here in the first place."

Santana turned to Brittany to see her eyes wide and a new expression that Santana hadn't seen before. She was shocked, and had nowhere near a smile on her face. It bothered Santana that she had to be the bearer of bad news, but it needed to be done.

"What lie had they even been telling you all this time?" Santana asked, her voice slightly softened because this girl seemed like the weakest link that no one wanted to deal with.

It looked like Rachel wanted to speak for Brittany, but one look from Santana shut her up.

Brittany took a gulp of air and proceeded to speak, "They said that Mr. Schue just went out looking for help because we're here from a bad storm and no one came to get us. He didn't want us to leave, and it hasn't been that long since he's been gone."

"How long do you think it's been?" Santana asked incredulously. This group, just looking at their supplies and the conditions of everything, looked like they had been here for months.

"About a month, I think. No one ever taught me how to read the clock." Brittany looked away a little ashamed, but her words were enough to rile Santana again.

"Okay, that's it. I can't believe that you people would do all of this for such a girl. I get it; she's an airhead, that's obvious. But that's no excuse!" Santana went over to grab the blonde's arm. "You're coming with me."

"Wait wait wait," Rachel ran over to grab onto Brittany's other arm, as if that was going to stop Santana from doing what she wanted. "You can't take her out there. She's unprepared! She's never even seen a zombie before."

The Latina just stared at the brown eyes that seemed to always want to annoy others because they see what only Rachel wants to see. It didn't take too long until Santana noticed the shape of Quinn standing defensively behind the midget. It only disgusted Santana even more.

"You know, I can get a new best friend too, Quinn. Screw you and that midget that you think is actually human. She's nothing but a troll, and you're nothing but a bitch. Plus, I'm going to do something that none of you ever thought about doing: educating this girl. I may not be good at school subjects but I fucking rock at zombology," Santana said with a sneer.

Brittany was looking in between the two and decided to yank her arm away from Rachel. Since Rachel's group was filled with bystanders, all Rachel could really do was look appalled at Brittany's actions.

Santana calmed a little bit about the fact that Brittany decided to choose her when everyone else didn't. She started to walk away and was actually glad that the room was filled with cowards. They may have outnumbered her, but now she was a pack of two.

It was about time that Santana made an actual friend.

Maybe this one could shoot well.


	6. Chapter 6: Clarity

**A/N: If you haven't realized yet, the chapter names are song titles which I now realize I probably should put a link to them so you know what they are. Great music, by the way. Also, any mention of guns may not be accurate. I am going off of information from the video games that I have played the movies that I have seen. DON'T TRUST IT. Just go along with it. Fanfiction logic is no logic anyways.**

**Also, the time span that I have written this in is pretty long, I'm aware. I've realized that I CAN write when I can't sleep at night, so hopefully the next chapter will be updated quicker. I also have other plans involving this story in different formats. If I actually accomplish that, then I'll letcha know.**

**Still no Beta. Sorry. And I apologize for the long A/N.**

**Song: Clarity - Zedd featuring Foxes /watch?v=l9Q7GISatW0**

**Enjoy:**

Shoes.

If there was one specific thing to remember for the end of the world, it was shoes.

Boots, high tops, heels, whatever; shoes are a necessity, because there is plenty of shit on the ground to accidentally step in. And plenty of that shit is better to not think about.

On her way out, Santana made sure to grab herself a nice pair of boots, the ones that can step on anything and not reverberate up her spine. That, and a jacket to shield her still fairly skin-showing self from the sun. It was later that Santana realized that she could've changed wardrobe entirely, but it took her longer to realize why she didn't.

Santana and Brittany exited the supermarket without another word to the group they left behind. It may have been some silent connection that they had to not bother with the rest of them, or maybe Brittany knew better and was way smarter than everyone else thought. Either way, the two left with some pride on their shoulders, whereas Santana had enough of that to supply for Brittany anyways.

It made the Latina feel good that there was at least one person on her side, even though she's only just met the girl and doesn't know a thing about her except that she can be easily fooled. But maybe that was a good thing for Santana. It would mean that Brittany wouldn't question what she was doing and put her trust in Santana. That was one thing that had been lacking for a long time; somebody actually trusting her. Or believing in her, that was more like it.

"Oh, wow!"

The Latina turned her head at the sound of Brittany gasping.

"What is it?" Santana asked.

"The sun!"

Santana gave the blonde a dumbfounded look and turned around to continue walking toward her two cars.

"Okay… what about it?" she asked and was starting to be concerned about her idea of bringing along this chick.

"I forgot what it looked like," Brittany commented with kind of quietly. Santana shrugged off her renowned experience but noted that Brittany could be deep if she wanted to. "And it's so much brighter than it is inside!" …Or maybe not.

Santana sighed. "Just help me with a few supplies, okay? We're gonna take the crap from that truck into my car." The Latina stopped in her tracks to point out where she was talking about. Brittany stopped next to her and eagerly followed Santana's pointing.

Santana noticed Brittany's enthusiasm and asked while maneuvering herself into the truck, "What, is this exciting for you or something?"

The brunette gave the blonde a box from the truck once she climbed into it as Brittany answered, "Well, yeah. I haven't been on a field trip in a long time."

Santana thought about it for a moment and replied mostly to herself, "I guess you could consider this a learning experience."

Brittany took the box from Santana's hands easily, even though it contained about 25 bullet clips.

"I like learning," Brittany said with a smile and put the box on her head, holding it up with one hand.

"Be careful with those!" Santana quickly acted, reaching her hands out as if that would do something. "They're more painful than they look if they fall on your feet."

"Nah, I got it. It's not a problem." Brittany's smile never ceased even though the box looked like it was about to tip over all of its contents.

"You must like learning the hard way, then," Santana shook her head and climbed off of the trunk's back. "Suit yourself."

"But I don't have a suit…" Santana didn't need to turn towards the blonde to know that she was frowning in a confused manner. Not even 20 minutes with this girl and Santana was starting to learn that her emotions are predictable but what comes out of her mouth never is.

"I didn't mean it literally. It's an expression."

"Oh."

Santana was never a people person. She could attempt to tolerate some people, but most of the time she'd rather harass them or ignore them. The harassment was only for fun if the people were either entertaining or annoying. Taking Brittany from her group out of thin air and going on a field trip that could possibly kill her was something Santana never dreamed she would be doing, so conversation was expected to be awkward. Even then, Santana couldn't predict what would actually happen, but at least it would be interesting considering how Santana hasn't gotten sick of Brittany yet.

The girl thought about how different Brittany's first tries at talking were. She surely wasn't someone who held in their thoughts.

And as if to prove her point, just as Santana was about to reach the Hummer, Brittany commented, "You know, you look a lot better all clean and stuff. I mean, you looked pretty cool before because it seemed like you just came from a battle between dinosaurs and unicorns, but now you look even prettier!"

Hearing those words caused Santana to pause and allow her hand to touch the door handle before turning to face the blonde.

"Do you always say stuff like this to people?" Santana asked, slightly afraid of the answer.

While still carrying the box of clips on her head, Brittany cocked said head and replied, "Well, not really." Santana raised an eyebrow. "I don't normally think that people come from a dinosaur versus unicorn war."

Santana sighed and rolled her eyes, immediately giving up on the topic. She tugged the backseat door open and waved her hand towards the area.

"You can set the box in there," she told Brittany tiredly. "You don't have to worry about food and stuff. We just needed those clips and now we can go."

It seemed like Brittany knew that she had said too much because she didn't say anything else as she put the box in the backseat and moved to the passenger's side when Santana motioned for her to do so. Or maybe that was her being an obedient Labrador. The Latina couldn't help but make that comparison as she watched the blonde do exactly as she said. She even excitedly sped to the other side of the car as if Brittany expected the window to be open so she could stick her head out of it.

"You remind me of a dog," Santana spoke as she climbed into the driver's seat and closed the door, getting ready to make her trek back to the area she knew was filled with mouth breathing braindeads.

Brittany's blue eyes, so curious and too bright, looked at Santana with wonder. It almost creeped her out how they seemed to always find her own dark brown orbs.

"Is that a good thing?"

"I guess if you like sniffing crap you shouldn't and licking toilet water," Santana chuckled, considering her statement a joke.

"I tried drinking toilet water once, and I understand why dogs try it. It's an easy access if they can't reach their dog bowl and it's not half bad."

"Why am I not surprised that you actually have done that?" Santana asked while pulling the Hummer away from the supermarket and headed towards her field trip destination.

"Haven't you?" Brittany shot back with pure interest. "It's like, one of the seven wonders of the world to try something that a dog does. How about eating dog treats?"

Santana let the silly comments and questions slide realizing that the words coming out of Brittany's mouth weren't entirely stupid. It may have been a completely random thing to think about, but it surely wasn't something to ignore because it was so uncommon. In fact, it makes great conversation, and remembering the times when texting caused conversations to became dull and disappear, this girl could've made Santana interested for hours and never reply with a "k".

In a quiet voice, Santana said, "I once tried a dog biscuit. It tasted like shit and I almost threw it back up. But if you tell anyone, I swear I'll force you to forget I said it."

With a Cheshire grin, Brittany stuck out her pinky and stated proudly, "I pinky promise I won't tell anyone."

The Latina considered that she could toy with this girl who is so easy to play with and replied, "How do I know if you're legitimate about a pinky promise?"

Brittany took her hand away from the driving brunette and placed it on her chin in a thinking position. Then, suddenly, she whipped her head towards Santana and enthusiastically replied, "I'll tell you one of my secrets so in case I do say it then you can tell them mine in exchange. We'll be equally embarrassed!"

Santana laughed, "You? A secret? It's gotta be something either really good or really ridiculous because you practically say your thoughts right when you think them. You're not even an open book, you're an audio tape!"

"I do have really good secrets, though."

Santana looked at the still smiling blonde and was actually wondering what secrets this girl could possibly have that didn't include a hidden stuffed animal.

"Okay, tell me."

Brittany stuck out her pinky again. "Pinky promise you won't tell?"

Santana rolled her eyes but with a smile of her own. "I pinky promise."

With one hand on the wheel, Santana allowed her right one to join Brittany's left pinky and they shook on it using their tiniest finger. Even though it was a small act, Santana didn't question how real this was for Brittany. It could've been a legal and binding contract to the blonde for all Santana knew, and yet, Santana didn't want to test this girl.

The Latina had made pinky promises with Quinn in the past, and most of the time she broke them within a week just to see Quinn's reaction and how much the girl would take before being completely pissed at Santana. It was always fun to push people and watch them not push back, and it was even more fun to see their limitations. But, Brittany looked like the type of girl that would break just at the sight of a drowning ant. This practically made a pinky promise a legal document.

"So what's your secret?" Santana asked, replacing her hand on the steering wheel.

The Latina glimpsed at Brittany and saw the girl uneasy in her seat. Her hands were together in her lap and she was looking at them like they could reply with the answer. Like she didn't want to say it herself.

"I've never been kissed."

What was once a teasing and playful emotion quickly turned to pity. Santana did not immediately speak in reply, but tilted her head to look at Brittany. She was still in that position of practically curling up into herself with her mouth scrunched to the side and her eyes staring at her hands.

"That's… a pretty deep secret in exchange for mine," Santana spoke softly. She didn't know what else to do. Brittany must've been at least her age and if she hadn't kissed someone by then, finding someone else would be that hardest thing in the world. She was stuck with a specific few individuals who seem to rank her down at the bottom and it was rare that she would come across another group since she's also stuck in the supermarket. Unless Brittany wanted to give it away to someone she didn't love, which Santana doubted she would, then Brittany may go on without ever receiving her first kiss.

And all of those thoughts made Santana believe that there was nothing she could say to really remedy the conversation. In fact, it actually made the field trip more awkward, and Santana felt uneasy in awkward situations.

"I thought yours was a deep secret," Brittany said without much sadness in her voice, which confused the brunette. Brittany looked as if she was about to cry, yet her voice didn't hold any of it.

Brittany looked over at Santana, who looked back at the road just as she did to avoid eye contact.

"I definitely have much worse. Eating a dog biscuit is just something you don't want others to hear since they'll make fun of you for doing so," Santana stated boldly.

"You don't like being made fun of?" Brittany asked, her curiosity returning.

Santana breathed out a partially angry laugh. "No one does. I don't know how you put up with it."

Brittany didn't respond to Santana's comment for a few seconds, and those few seconds ticked by in Santana's head annoyingly. Half of her was anxious to finally reach the spot where she found those zombies, but her other half wanted to know what this crazy girl was thinking. Brittany may be an audiotape, but it never went in a certain order, unlike the rest of the world who couldn't shut their mouths.

Finally, Brittany said, "I didn't know I was being made fun of."

That irked the Latina off almost instantly. How could someone not know when they're being made fun of? All this time, Santana thought Brittany was aware of it but just ignored it because she had nothing better to do in return. She didn't know that Brittany had absolutely no idea that the others considered her at rock bottom. How could anyone be so oblivious?!

"How in the fucking hell do you not know that your being made fun of?!"

The new tone in Santana's voice caused Brittany to jump in her seat.

Santana continued with her teeth clenched and her hands doing the same on the steering wheel, "They were practically yelling in your face how lowly they think of you! You're the one that they turn to that eats their questionable shit and sees if you vomit so that they could eat it! Rachel fucking Berry didn't even want you to know what the fuck is even happening out here, yet didn't even try to stop me from taking you, and is probably making bets with the others to see if you'd return alive! How can you even fucking ignore all of the crap they give you?! They think you're stupid and unaware and live on another world!"

Santana was so angry that she hit the brakes once she was done just to let off some steam, which caused her and her passenger to be thrown forwards, but not as badly as when the car fell into the pothole.

"I just want to fucking yell for you! I don't even know why!" Santana continued, her hands still gripping the nonmoving automobile. "You don't deserve to be treated like that."

Then Santana turned to Brittany with her eyes almost pleading at the blonde.

"Why are you so ignorant to the things you should care most about?!"

For the first time that Santana had seen, Brittany looked uncertain. Santana almost felt bad for her outburst, but she believed so much that Brittany needed to get her head out of the clouds and look at the life that she is living.

Slowly, the blonde answered, "Why do you care so much about what others think?"

"Why don't you?!" Santana shot back with both anger and hope that she'd see Santana's way.

Brittany only turned away from her and looked outside the passenger window.

"Are we at our field trip destination?" she asked, completely dropping the other topic as if it washed away from her thoughts.

"What?"

"Oh! Who's that?"

Before Santana could stop her, Brittany unbuckled her seatbelt and ran out the door leaving it wide open so that Santana could see the girl frolicking away in glee.

"The fucking hell," Santana muttered before ripping her own seatbelt off and chasing after her.

Santana wasn't unfamiliar with physical activity. Actually, she practiced many times per week to make sure that she was prepared for any nonweapon assault that she may come across, which was why she had nice abs. What confused the brunette was how Brittany, who was holed up in the supermarket for months, could run at a fast and steady pace.

"STOP RUNNING!" the Latina shouted, hoping to slow down the girl who appeared to have found her new shiny play toy.

Brittany was at least a few yards away and still bounding her merry way to whatever it was she saw, and either ignored Santana or didn't hear her, which only made Santana angrier.

"FOR CRYING OUT LOUD, SLOW DOWN, BRITT!" Santana tried again, realizing that yelling plus running was doing big damage to her energy.

Luckily for Santana, she was faster than the blonde when it comes to sprinting and grabbed onto Brittany's arm as soon as she had her within reach. One touch was all it took for Brittany to gather her senses and finally slow down to a stop, leaving Santana heaving beside her and still holding onto her arm.

"Do you…have…ADD…or something?" Santana asked while still trying to catch her breath. The hot air around them did not help the Latina from her much too early exercise and she knew that the shower yesterday was ruined by her latest activities.

Santana looked up to Brittany to see that she was breathing heavily too, but not nearly as badly as Santana.

"Uhh… I guess so. Two and two is four unicorns, right?" she answered with a toothy smile.

Santana sighed in aggravation and let go of Brittany's arm, "Nevermind. At least you stopped running. Next time, don't do that."

"There's going to be a next time?" Brittany asked in excitement, her hands clenched together near her too happy face.

"If we live through this time!" Maybe it was the heat, or past memories, or her fight with Quinn, but Santana wasn't feeling all too nice at that moment and Brittany wasn't helping. Santana only wanted to assist the girl, teach her what the others lacked to teach, and do the first nice thing that she's done in what seemed like a decade. Why did it have to be like this where the girl she's helping stuck to her role of being ditzy?

"Think about the positives," Santana mumbled to try to calm herself down. "The positives… She's athletic. Not boring. Not a whiner…that ought to give her doubles points."

"Whatcha muttering?" Brittany questioned, leaning closer to the brunette to try to hear what she was saying.

"Nothing, nothing." Santana shook her head and looked back into Brittany's blue eyes. _Incredible blue eyes_, Santana mentally added. It wasn't everyday a pair of eyes captured her attention. "What were you even running after?"

"Hm? Oh, that!" Brittany pointed in the direction in front of Santana and the brunette looked up and shielded her eyes from the sun to try to see what exactly it was.

Since the two had ran closer to the object, it was easier to identify it, and they had been travelling enough to reach the force field that Santana found the night before.

"Aw, crap, Britt, you're not supposed to run to _that_," Santana pointed out, shaking her head and rubbing her temple. Santana reached out to grab Brittany's arm again and proceeded to lead her back to the Hummer.

"But why not?" Santana knew a frown was sketched on her face.

"Because that's what we're here for, what I'm going to teach you about, and you've gotta be prepared."

_._._

After dragging Brittany back to the Hummer while she asked silly questions about field trips and learning, Santana made her way closer to the zombie that had caught Brittany's eye.

"Do you know anything about guns?" Santana asked once Brittany took a break from asking her questions to take a breather.

"My daddy told me to never touch one… Does that count?" The way Brittany said that reminded Santana of a child.

The brunette shook her head. She was calmer now that things were under control again, so she was able to take Brittany's obliviousness without reaching her anger peak.

"Poo," Brittany muttered, which made Santana almost smirk, but it was a serious time now, so the Latina had to be serious and hope that it would spread to the blonde too.

"It's not too hard."

"We're going to be playing with guns?" Brittany asked just as Santana reached a distance that she thought was safe for practicing.

"No, that is definitely not a word you should not be using. 'Playing' will get you killed. 'Mastering' would be much better, but that would take time, so I recommend you consider this 'learning' for now." Santana unbuckled her seatbelt and turned off the car while making sure that the few zombies she saw didn't notice them.

Brittany did the same once she saw Santana do so and opened the door to jump out of the vehicle. "So this is our field trip? 'Learning' about playing with guns?"

Santana mentally facepalmed but figured that Brittany will learn soon enough what they're doing. The Latina went to the backseat where she had her materials for murder and tried to figure which would be the best practice weapon. Santana looked back at the nearest zombie that the blonde had seen and estimated that it was 20 feet away, so a pistol wouldn't work well. The brunette settled for her sniper hoping that learning accuracy first may help, plus the recoil was better than the other guns, and the recoil is what really hurts when hunting.

"Sure." Santana brought the gun around the car to where Brittany was, which just so happened to be sitting right on the hood of the Hummer.

"Comfortable?" Santana questioned while being slightly amused.

"Oh, yeah. I never knew how nice it was to sit so high up on here!"

"And you didn't have a problem at all getting there in the first place?"

Brittany shook her head with that same joyous smile and replied, "Nope. Why, do you?"

Santana's cheeks brightened at the thought. The Latina knew that she was shorter than a lot of girls and did need to ask people sometimes to reach things on the top shelf, but she hates recalling that she was short and needed assistance for some actions. Truth of the matter was that Santana did try many times to climb on top of the Hummer without any help, but it was futile, and she always needed a boost from a box lest she end up scratching the car trying to climb on it.

"N-no!" Santana stuttered, trying to contain her embarrassment at being caught. Brittany seemed to know quickly that Santana was lying and smirked while narrowing her eyes. The blue eyes made Santana even more uncomfortable while the blonde was super comfy where she sat.

"Really?" Brittany's Cheshire grin returned and she pat an empty area next to her. "Then why don't you join me up here?"

Santana gritted her teeth knowing that if she backed away, Brittany would win whatever game they were playing. "Kay, no problem."

Brittany took the gun that Santana handed to her before the Latina placed both hands on the bright red vehicle and tried to jump onto the hood using all the upper body strength that she had and then attempted to use her feet the rest of the way. Her abs wouldn't help her in this situation and she constantly cursed to herself about how terrible her genetics were. Why couldn't she have gotten a taller gene? Or a gene that made her able to jump high or just fly in general? Why couldn't that exist?

It was no use that her first trial would succeed, so she dropped her feet onto the ground and huffed out a breath.

"Need help?" the voice of the blonde teased at her. Santana had no idea that this girl was even capable of teasing.

"Pff, no. My hands are just sweaty from running after you earlier."

Santana heard a giggle come from the hood of the Hummer and she cursed at herself again. She was making a fool of herself when she was supposed to be a badass. _Now Brittany had her dog biscuit secret and this in the back of her pocket,_ Santana thought with a frown.

Santana ignored the giggles and went to plan B, which involved the girl taking a few steps back before sprinting with all her might to the Hummer and jumping before she hit the front.

"Umph!" was let out from Santana's mouth when her body collided with the heating metal.

Unfortunately, her jump wasn't good enough or well-planned so her body was slowly sliding back down the hood.

"Shit!" Santana said and tried to claw her way to where Brittany was still sitting and smirking but ended up sliding back down faster. Before Santana's feet hit the ground once more, she felt something tug at her hand.

"I got you, kangaroo," Brittany joked and tugged Santana to the spot next to her with little effort, Santana noted.

"Sheesh, you're strong," Santana commented as soon as she got her bearings and knew she wasn't going to fall back down.

"And you don't know when to ask for help," Brittany commented back, but not with a mean tone. She was still smiling and Santana didn't get mad at the comment because of that smile.

"Well, sometimes help doesn't really help." Santana took back the sniper and refused to look at the blue eyes that had been curiously watching her for more than 15 minutes straight.

"You don't know that," Brittany tried with her mouth pulled to the side in uncertainty.

Santana shook her head while pretending to be handling the weapon because she didn't want to look at Brittany. "Trust me, the majority of the time you can only help yourself and that's that."

"Well," Brittany's hand suddenly appeared on the sniper inches away from Santana's right one, which immediately caused Santana to flinch at the sudden appearance and proximity. "I need help learning how to play with one of these."

The comment couldn't stop Santana from making a small smile appear on her face, which made the Latina turn away to try to hide it, but since Brittany didn't take her hand back, she must've known that she caused Santana to smile.

"Come on, what does this thingy do? Does it shoot fireworks?"

Santana shook her head still with that small smile and turned to face Brittany while pulling the gun slightly out of Brittany's reach.

"Not here," Santana replied while edging her chin towards the roof of the car. "Let's climb up there. It'll be more comfortable."

Brittany smiled in agreement and quickly managed to climb onto the top of the Hummer in no time at all. Since Santana already finished the difficult part of ascending the vehicle, the one step to reach the flat top was easy and saved her from further embarrassment.

Once the two were settled on the roof, Santana carefully extended the sniper to her.

"Okay, you have to follow my directions very carefully, alright? Got that? Not one command should go through one ear and out the other." Santana made sure that her words came out precisely and slowly so that Brittany wouldn't drift and miss it all.

"Yes ma'am!" Brittany replied enthusiastically, a sparkle clearly seen in her eyes.

The blonde reached out to grasp the heavy material and before Santana let go, she said, "Now, the safety is on so you don't hurt yourself. I want you to imagine this sniper as part of you, say, another arm or something."

"But wouldn't another arm be attached to my chest, and not from the arms I already have?"

"Focus, Brittany. I didn't mean it like that." Santana knew she was going to have to be patient, extremely patient. If she was a mother and had to teach her kid to walk, before even trying, she would pay someone else to teach her kid first, but no one was here, so she had to be the teacher. So Santana was aware that any sense of self control she had would be of the utmost importance for this one lesson. "I meant that this gun, any gun really, shouldn't be considered a flimsy toy. It is dangerous and a weapon, just like your hands and feet can be, except this one can accidentally hit you."

"I accidentally hit myself in the nose once. I thought there was a bug on it, but it turned out to be a fuzz ball."

"Brittany."

"Oh, sorry. Got it." The blonde made a hand motion as if she were zipping her mouth shut and had an invisible key to lock it, which she then proceeded to throw away. Santana wasn't unfamiliar with the action, knowing it meant that she was going to try and be quiet, so the Latina hoped that lock remained locked and continued.

"Do you understand anything of what I just said, though?"

In response, Brittany tilted her head with an unclear expression and shook her head slightly. That caused Santana to sigh.

"Hold this," Santana ordered as she gave Brittany the whole gun to hold while Santana produced her own pistol that she always kept on her.

"This is a pistol," Santana introduced. "It's better for short range shots and is lighter weight so it's easy to have around. Feel how heavy it is."

Santana then gave Brittany the pistol after the blonde set down the other gun next to her. The girl immediately widened her eyes and practiced raising and dropping the weapon to test the gravity on it. "It's heavier than I thought," Brittany replied and looked at Santana before giving back her gun.

The Latina took it easily and held it in her right hand. "Exactly. These things aren't toys at all. They're…life takers. They are capable of taking the one thing that each living creature has of its own: their life. They can be used for justice and evil, depending on who's holding it and what they plan to use it for."

"What do you use it for?" Brittany asked, completely engrossed with what the brunette was saying.

Santana knew immediately the answer, yet she hesitated before replying, "Justice, obviously."

The blonde opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something, but closed it instead.

Santana proceeded, "These guns should be treated like newborn infants because of what they can do, and if treated badly, they will not obey you and even harm you if you're not careful. Do you understand now?"

Brittany nodded honestly.

"What I gave you is a sniper. It's meant for long range, can have a silencer on it, and has an eyepiece that helps to aim better. I figured that'd be a good gun to practice with, otherwise you'd be wasting bullets."

Santana put away her pistol then knelt down to pick up the remaining gun and set it up with a stand at the edge of the roof.

"I want you to lay on your stomach behind this," she spoke while pointing.

"My stomach?"

"Just do it."

Brittany obeyed like the Labrador that Santana thought she was and rolled onto her stomach so that her face was inches from the eyepiece.

"Great. Now put your hands here, like this." Santana grabbed Brittany's hands carefully but almost retreated at the sudden spark that spiraled through her body. It surprised the girl, but Santana shook it off thinking that she just got shocked. Without another thought of it, Santana led the other girl's hands to the correct positions on the gun so that she was holding it right, even though it was balanced already. After the Latina was satisfied with her work, she scooted away from the blonde and surveyed the field once more before tilting the sniper in the direction that she liked.

"Look through the eyepiece and tell me what you see."

Carefully and seriously, Brittany looked through the sniper to see what Santana knew was already there.

"A person," Brittany replied without looking up from the gun.

"Look closer," Santana commanded, waiting anxiously to see how the blonde reacts.

The girl continued to look hard at the person and after two minutes, she said, "It's a weird person."

"Yes?"

"Like… his skin… It's not right."

"How is it not right?"

"It's…it's…" Brittany's voice started to get shaky and her hands showed a similar vibration. "It's not all there. There's…chunks of it missing. Around his legs and arms and face…I think I can see his teeth!"

"Do you know what that is, Brittany?" Santana asked carefully. It occurred to the brunette that she was starting to worry if she had done this wrong. They were a safe distance away, but if Brittany ever saw a scary zombie movie then this would be her ultimate nightmare.

When Brittany didn't answer the question, Santana answered it for her, "It's a zombie, Brittany. A real life zombie. That's what your so called friends, your Glee club members, were hiding from you. There was no bad weather or something that kept you in that supermarket. It was because of people like them, people that have turned into zombies."

By that time, Brittany stopped looking through the eyepiece and instead was staring down. Santana tried to imagine what was going on inside that head of hers, but it was hard enough with a normal person.

"Are you alright?" she questioned tentatively her arms reaching out to console her. Brittany shifted her body a few centimeters to the right even though Santana wasn't close enough to touch her.

"They're not going to hurt you," Santana attempted again. "I won't let them."

"Why did you bring me out here?" the blonde asked all of a sudden. The question itself surprised the Latina.

"I… You should've known about this. I didn't want you to live in the dark."

"Why?" Brittany shot back quickly, her face whipped around so that Santana could clearly see the girl's blue eyes turning darker with anger.

"Because what they were doing to you was unfair."

"Why?!"

"Because they were keeping you from the truth and it isn't right."

"WHY?!"

"BECAUSE WHAT IF YOU LEFT THAT SUPERMARKET AND WAS ATTACKED BY ONE OF THEM AND THEY ATE YOU YET YOU NEVER KNEW WHAT HAPPENED!?"

Santana was heaving with anger all over the place. Anger towards Brittany, towards her stupid friends, towards the stupid world, towards Santana's stupid life! Who would've known that a silly why game would lead to Santana spilling information only made for herself? It infuriated the girl at how Brittany suddenly obtained sense and questioned Santana about it all when she was only trying to do the justice she was meant to do.

Even though Santana was steaming, the girl beside her seemed to have calmed down at the answer she received. It was like Brittany was waiting for it all along.

Santana couldn't help but continue, "Do you know how many people had that happen to them?" Santana didn't wait for an answer. "A lot, Britt. A fucking lot. And I've seen way more than I ever should've, and it sucks. It just sucks. It's been like, a year since Day 0 happened, and so many people have died and turned yet never knew it because they didn't know what was going on."

It took a small drop of water to land on Santana's hand for the girl to realize that she allowed herself to cry. Again she cried in a small timespan for a silly reason. Every reason to cry was silly, Santana believed, yet there she was, crying because of the girl next to her bringing up memories she'd rather keep locked.

It was easy to notice the hand that was put calmly on Santana's back. The Latina didn't move from the kind act but forced herself to suck in her tears and maintain her composure.

"Now you know," Santana concluded once she knew that no more tears would escape. Brittany didn't move her hand from Santana's back even when Santana was aware of how steady she was.

"I think you need to know that the reason people cry is because they've been holding in a lot of pain for so long. They gotta cry, or else they'll explode." Santana didn't smile at Brittany's thought, but she didn't frown either.

"Aren't you scared?" Santana asked while changing the conversation. She didn't want to think about the weakness of crying.

"A little," the blonde admitted. "But I trust you."

"You barely know me," Santana commented but with a slight laugh at how fast the chick grew attached.

"I know that you can shoot three zombies in the head with one bullet and can easily shoot one from a far distance." Brittany was smiling at Santana as she spoke that.

"Don't trust Puck, Britt. The bandage on his head isn't for fashion. The boy thinks that a few yards is 10 miles. He really is a dolt."

"I also know that even though you're a total badass, you're still sensitive and human on the inside."

The contrasting phrase that Brittany put in the last sentence left Santana in between a smile and a grimace. "Don't tell anyone the second part of that. I'm supposed to be ruthless."

The hand finally moved from Santana's back but moved around to where Santana's right hand lay, which Brittany then inserted her pinky finger to Santana's pinky finger. The brunette noticed how oddly warm she felt at the contact.

"I promise."

_._._

The small moment that the two girls had subsided within a good amount of time. It was a different thing for Santana who never really had deep moments; the last in a long while being the one she and Quinn had the morning before. _It's going to be a pity when we have to leave_, Santana thought as she pondered the inevitable departure from the supermarket. It isn't wise to stay in one place for too long, even if that place had some weird zombie force field. It also wasn't smart to get attached to anyone, even someone as simple minded as Brittany.

"So you shoot zombies to save people?" Brittany asked then, breaking Santana out of her thoughts.

The voice of the blonde made Santana face the curious girl. She then sat on the ground because she realized her body was in a weird position, and it hurt.

"Not really…" Santana decided to answer while scrunching up her eyebrows. "I don't kill because I'm some sort of superhero. I kill because these zombies… don't belong here. They're defying the laws of nature." Santana hoped that Brittany didn't notice her sudden speed when saying the last part.

If Brittany did notice that, she didn't acknowledge it.

"But it's like a hobby for you?" Brittany turned to eye the gun that was still set up in front of her and replaced her hands on it the way Santana showed her earlier.

"Yeah," Santana decided with a smirk and nodded her head. "It is like a hobby. I mean, it's totally better than collecting stamps. More exciting."

Brittany laughed and smiled while replying, "Am I going to learn the hobby of zombie killing?"

Santana's eyebrows rose at the question and she tried to force words to tumble out of her mouth because the blonde actually stunned her. "Uh-h, I didn't know you wanted to. Thought you might've, I don't know, run away at the sight of the zombie and never look back." She shrugged.

"They are people, right?" Brittany asked as she looked up to stare at the lingering zombie walking eternally for food.

"In a sense, I guess."

"Then we got to save them from themselves. It must be lonely being a zombie."

Brittany's words rang true, Santana realized, but also in another sense that Santana hadn't even known was a connection. "It's lonely being a survivor too…" she muttered to herself.

"What was that?" Brittany called out and looked away from the zombie to peer at Santana.

The brunette shook her head a little too violently and spoke quickly, "Nothing. If's it's a zombie killing lesson you want, it's a zombie killing lesson you'll get."

With an excited nod from her head, Brittany eagerly awaited for more instructions.

The few seconds that Santana had to composure herself, she tried to do quickly. All along, Santana wanted Brittany to want to kill zombies along with her. More people means more redead zombies which means that her mission of destroying them all may actually be possible. But, Santana had doubted that Brittany would side with her, and it certainly surprised the Latina how quickly she did. 10% was all Santana believed that Brittany would choose the path that the brunette wanted her to choose. The blonde just seemed so harmless; someone who would still think that zombies were people and shouldn't be shot. But still, the words that came out of the blonde were crazy, yet always in a good way.

"You better not wuss out on me now, Britt," Santana commanded in what she hoped was a stern tone.

"I like it when you call me Britt," was what the blonde responded as she got into sniping position once more.

Santana deliberately ignored the comment so that she didn't stray back to being emotional and leaned down to get close to the girl, but not too close.

"What you _want_ to do is aim for the head, but that's only because headshots actually kill the zombie immediately. For you, I think you'd be better with trying to aim for the torso since it's a bigger target."

"Is the torso the people who wear tacky Hawaiian outfits and socks with sandals? Because I don't think this guy is a torso."

Santana chuckled and reached to reposition the sniper the best she could to what was hopefully directly on the torso. "No. That's a tourist. Torso is the chest area, like the heart and lungs."

"If I shoot a zombie in the heart, will that be like a headshot?"

"Hm… You know, I never thought of it like that. The heart pumps blood through the body, and the blood is zombie blood which is what makes the body still function. The brain just stops the heart…so maybe. You can try it, but it's a tough shot to make."

"You know a lot about the body, Santana," Brittany commented while aiming with her tongue sticking out in concentration.

It was the first time that Brittany said her name, and the only reason that Santana even noticed that was because her name rung through her head like bell chimes. It was weird, and uncomfortable but only because it was weird. The brunette tried to ignore it.

"Not really. That's just common information," Santana tried to play off.

It appeared as if Brittany accepted that and moved on saying, "So I just pull this thingy?" and tapped the trigger.

"Yeah, but let me take it off safety, otherwise it won't work." Santana slipped her finger to where the safety was and turned it off while noticing how close her right hand was once again to Brittany's. For some reason, the comfort that she felt with that hand made her yearn to touch it again, to feel that sense of security.

Santana mentally shook her head. _A hand can't create security. That's silly._

"Just aim and fire."

After a few moments, Brittany did so.

_BAM!_

The ricochet from the shooting of the bullet shook the Hummer and rattled every inch of the two girls.

"SHIT!" Santana shouted at the rebound and quickly turned her head to see where the bullet landed. In just a few moments, the zombie that Brittany had been running to before fell backwards into the dirt.

"I got it!" Brittany shouted with glee and lifted her head to search for Santana's approval, which Santana did not give.

"No. Fucking hell, this is bad." Santana tried to get up quickly and attempt to collect her materials as fast as she possible could with more nerves in her body than a convicted felon being prepared to be hanged, which Santana felt like she was in a similar situation. "Don't just stand there, Brittany. We have to get moving!"

"Wait, why? I got it! See? It fell!"

"No, you don't see." Santana paused with her collected mess of guns and propping gear to look at Brittany, straight in those unknowing blue eyes of hers. "We just alerted the horde waiting out there that we're here. They're coming for us."

And to prove Santana's words, the combination of two senses struck the very core of the Latina:

The smell of disintegrating skin, and the moaning of decaying people.


End file.
